


Eyes of Madness

by Britt_pknapp



Series: It's in the Eyes [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Captain America Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Drinking, Hydra, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Panic Attacks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, The chair, Tipsy Bucky, new fist of hydra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Britt_pknapp/pseuds/Britt_pknapp
Summary: Steve smoothed down the button down, frowning at his reflection in the mirror. There was an Avengers-only ("yes, Buck-o counts as an Avenger, so he can come too") party tonight for Natasha. She wouldn't tell anyone her birthday, but Tony and Clint had pestered her for enough that she had agreed to let them throw her a party at the end of March.Which lead to this. Steve had been considering begging off, claiming he had to work, until Tony had had the bright idea of making this party for Bucky's birthday as well. His soulmate had just turned twenty-nine a few weeks prior, and he'd admitted to Steve that he hadn't really celebrated his birthday since he'd been twelve and graduated high school.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: It's in the Eyes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543723
Comments: 62
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'd like to thank my dearest [Kocuria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria) for the excellent cheer-reading. I still have those comments and I love them. Thanks again!
> 
> Second, I'd like to thank [Aere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeremaee) for the hard work and diligence of a beta like I've never experienced. And for catching somethings that weren't reading the way I intended them to be read (and helping me get it to where it needed to be so it came across correctly). She caught a lot of typos and grammar issues, but any that remain are still my own.
> 
> This fic is complete, and I plan on posting a chapter on Sundays until we reach completion. Please kudos, comment, subscribe, I'll love you forever!
> 
> Tag warnings that may require further explanation will be explained in the chapter the warning applies to.

Steve smoothed down the button down, frowning at his reflection in the mirror. There was an Avengers-only ("yes, Buck-o counts as an Avenger, so he can come too") party tonight for Natasha. She wouldn't tell anyone her birthday, but Tony and Clint had pestered her for enough that she had agreed to let them throw her a party at the end of March.

Which lead to this. Steve had been considering begging off, claiming he had to work, until Tony had had the bright idea of making this party for Bucky's birthday as well. His soulmate had just turned twenty-nine a few weeks prior, and he'd admitted to Steve that he hadn't really celebrated his birthday since he'd been twelve and graduated high school. 

It made Steve feel incredibly guilty that in the two years since he'd been unfrozen he hadn't made a bigger deal out of Bucky's birthday. Yeah, they had cake and spent the evening together, but Steve hadn't really made it special. He just wasn't used to the idea that he  _ could  _ make a birthday special. Growing up, the most extraordinary thing he'd had were the fireworks, and since he turned five he'd known they weren't really for him even if he liked them all the same. 

But this year they were making up for it with what Tony was calling 'an Avengers Blowout' and insisting that if he hadn't owned the building, he was sure this party would have gotten the police called. Steve had also been assured that Thor was bringing some of that Asgardian ale so that Steve could drink with everyone else and actually get a buzz. 

He'd have to wait and see about drinking that. If Bucky had anything to drink, Steve wanted to be sober to keep his soulmate out of trouble. He'd heard the horror story from the Stark Industries Christmas party when Bucky had drunk too much champagne and had run off, had a meltdown in the middle of the street and nearly gotten run over by a bus. 

There was no way in hell Steve was going to be tipsy if that might happen. 

Still, this was the first time Steve was really celebrating Bucky's birthday, and he really wanted to look good. Yeah, technically Steve and Bucky were soulmates and were coming up on three years together, but that didn't mean Steve shouldn't dress to impress. 

Only, the endless sea of khaki pants and lightly coloured button-downs that made up Steve's closet felt wrong. 

Heaving a massive sigh that Bucky, if he had witnessed it, would have called Steve dramatic for, the blonde grabbed his phone and called the only other person he could think of that would give him practical fashion advice. Sam. 

"What's up, old man?" Sam's voice said cheerily after the device rang a few times. "Still struggling with getting Bucky a present?" 

"No, I, I figured that out already," Steve said with a small smile. He hoped Bucky liked it. It wasn't a flashy gift or an expensive one, but it meant a lot to Steve. Hopefully, Bucky would see it that way too. "This is about what to wear… I don't want to look like an old man at Bucky's birthday party." 

"And the Widow's party," Sam corrected, amusement lacing his voice. So sue him if he forgot this was a joint party now and then. Bucky was his soulmate. He was allowed to have a bit of tunnel vision when it came to him. "But I'll be up in five, don't even think about wearing khakis. I would rather squeeze you into Barnes' skinny ass jeans than that." 

"Bucky's jeans won't fit," Steve muttered solemnly. He'd already thought of that. Bucky had incredible legs and a particularly beautiful ass, but his muscle tone was lean. He didn't have the same bulk to him that Steve did. He'd split the seams of Bucky's jeans if he even thought of sitting down. 

"Yeah, and I'd still rather you wear those than your khakis," Sam said with a shrug. "You dress like Bucky's old Gramps. Like an old white dude that says 'back in my day' a lot." 

Steve snorted softly. He'd met Bucky's Gramps only once. The elderly man was Steve's age, and he'd looked it. He'd liked Steve a lot according to Bucky. "I have never said that," Steve pointed out, just wanting to be contrary as he stared at his closet before pulling sweatpants on so Sam didn't have to look at him in his underwear. 

"You say variations on it," Sam countered, and Steve could practically hear the casual shrug. "'Before I was frozen' and 'it used to be' and my personal favourite 'my ma raised me to'." 

"But she did raise me to–" 

"But most mom's don't instil the same manners these days, so it counts," Sam interrupted. "I'm here, tell Jarvis to let me in." Sam ended the call, and sure enough, Jarvis' voice asked him if Sam was permitted to enter. 

Steve nodded and made his way towards the door as Sam came in. The man froze after closing the door and immediately put a hand over his eyes. "Whoa, dude, not cool, a little warning when you're gonna be naked, honestly, it ain't like I'm Bucky," Sam said, blindly groping for the wall. 

With a roll of his eyes, Steve crossed his arms over his bare chest. "I'm not wearing a shirt, Sam," he warned, tone dry and flat. "I'm wearing sweatpants  _ with  _ those boxer-briefs Bucky got me for Christmas." 

"Why is he getting you underwear for Christmas?" Sam asked, uncovering his eyes with a dramatic eye roll. "Isn't that lame?" 

"That's because after I got him a pair of panties last year, he wanted to make it a tradition to get each other undergarments," Steve said. He schooled his expression into something as neutral as possible, even as his thoughts flickered to the pair he'd gotten Bucky last Christmas. Another pair of Captain America themed panties because Steve knew how much Bucky liked his first pair and because the possessive part of Steve's brain really,  _ really  _ liked seeing Bucky in anything Captain America themed. 

"Panties? You know what, actually, never mind," Sam shook his head, clearly trying to erase the mental image he'd conjured of his best friend in lingerie. "Anyway, consider me your style-saviour, because I stopped at Thor's floor and convinced him to lend you some jeans." 

Sam tosses the denim at Steve, who caught it with a frown. "I know I'm not short anymore," he began, holding the pants up to measure the fit. "But Thor's still taller than I am." The only one actually, not counting Bruce since he was only taller than Steve when he was green. 

"Yep, it's called rolling," Sam said, dropping down onto Steve's couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "Go change." 

Steve did, but not before shoving Sam's feet down with a stern 'Captain America is Disappointed in You' face (as Bucky liked to call it). As he pulled the jeans on, he noted that, apart from the bottoms covering his feet, the jeans fit well. 

Steve cast a cursory look in the mirror, trying to look at his reflection from Bucky's perspective. What would his soulmate see? Would he even like that Steve was trying to look more modern? The most modern Steve had looked to date was when he wore the suit Bucky designed for him. It was still his favourite, even after SHIELD insisted their logo be placed  _ somewhere  _ on his uniform. 

As if the subtle flag design and iconic shield weren't enough to tell people who he was. 

Steve shuffled, still bare-chested but with long jeans slung low on his hips. "They're long," Steve admitted glumly, looking down at his mostly covered feet. 

Sam got to his feet and handed Steve his phone. "Do that with your pants," the man instructed. "I would, but I don't want to get that close to your business." 

Steve chuckled but took the phone to look at the picture and handed it back to the other man. He quickly rolled the pants up, exposing most of his ankle. "It's not weird to have my jeans rolled like this?" He asked, still frowning at his ankles. "My ma used to roll my trousers too, but it definitely was not okay, and let's just say I got into a few fights about the rolling of my trousers…" 

"Yeah, it's cool," Sam assured him, appraising Steve's work. "Well. Depends on how you do it. You're alright. The jeans fit you like a glove everywhere else. Bet you never thought you'd have thighs the same size as a god, huh?" 

"Didn't use to think I'd have thighs bigger than your arms," Steve muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Or that there was more than one god that wasn't, you know, God. Anyway, what's next? I know Bucky would like me to show up like this, but everyone else, probably not so much." 

"Button-down time," Sam said with a wide grin, dragging Steve into the walk-in closet. "Hmm. Don't know why I expected the suit. But, dark jeans, a light shirt, dude. Here. Put that one on. Tuck it in the front only. None of that grandpa tucks all the way around bullshit." 

Steve sighed but did as he was told, pulling the light blue material over his arms. "I don't actually keep the suit in my room. It's at SHIELD unless Bucky wants to work on it. The only thing I keep here is the shield," Steve told him, buttoning the shirt across his chest. "Sometimes I think I should keep the shield at work too, but then, what if  _ something  _ happens and Bucky gets hurt because I don't have it here? I'd have Stark figure out a way to permanently weld it to my arm." 

"Bit extreme man," Sam admitted, giving Steve a look before averting his eyes so Steve could tuck the front of the shirt into the jeans. "Roll your sleeves now and unbutton the top two buttons, you ain't wearing a tie. But I do get it. Bucky has that effect on people if he lets them get close enough. I probably woulda been a career soldier if not for worrying my ass off about him. I should tell you the story of his first year in college." 

That had Steve's immediate attention. Bucky didn't often talk about that part of his life. He rolled his sleeves like Sam instructed, confirming in the mirror that he did look a lot more modern than he usually did. "Come on, you're killing me here," Steve pressed with a wide smile. "Bucky doesn't tell me a lot about his early college days. Just the end of his college career." 

"That's because the smartass was twelve years old," Sam said with a snort. "I'll tell you while I fix this grandpa hair into something we can hopefully work with." 

Steve was ushered into the bathroom and instructed to sit on the toilet lid. Sam began to tousle his hair about, and then he started talking. "He was a twelve-year-old kid in a world filled with eighteen-year-old young adults, or older, out trying to prove they didn't need mommy and daddy anymore," Sam was saying, quickly locating the pomade Steve used to style his hair. "He wasn't allowed to stay in the dorms, I mean, you really can't have a kid among all the other freshmen. He came home every night, like he was in regular school, except he was taking college classes, actually working on a damn degree at twelve years old." 

"Did you miss having him in school with you?" Steve asked, wincing a bit as Sam tugged on his blonde hair. "I mean, I really only had one friend growing up, Arnie. But he was, well, let's just say he never went to school with me. Doesn't mean I didn't miss the chance to have friends at school too." 

Sam just shrugged. "Nah, not really, you gotta understand," he explained. "Bucky and I only had one year together in school. Then someone figured out he was a super genius and he left me in the dust. Doesn't mean he wasn't still my best friend. It helped that we were neighbours. Anyway, the first time that kid had his finals, I swear. That was the start of all his idiosyncrasies. The focusing so hard he stopped eating, sleeping, and otherwise taking care of himself. Which sounds stupid actually, if you think about how easy Barnes always found school. Smartest damn person in the room, pretty much his whole life and pretty much even now. Don't tell Stark I said that. He just saw the other college kids freaking and thought it was weird that he wasn't, so he did." 

"Bucky doesn't do anything by halves," Steve mused, smiling a bit wistfully. He'd gotten so incredibly lucky to have Bucky as a soulmate. Not even just because Steve had a soulmate at all after growing up how he did. But Bucky was one of a kind, and Steve couldn't imagine loving him any less than he did now. 

"He does not," Sam agreed. "He's always been a little high strung, and sleepovers back in the day weren't always fun. He always had something to say, some idea or scheme or random fact, at all hours, didn't matter that I was sleeping. He'd be waking me up like 'Sammy, Sammy, did you know goats have rectangular pupils?' or 'Sammy, did you know glass balls bounce higher than rubber ones?' I swear. He could have made bank in Jeopardy if he wanted." 

Steve smiled widely. Bucky sounded like an adorable kid. A young Steve Rogers would have definitely wanted to be his friend. Bucky always had fascinating things to say. "He told me the other day that the magnet that calls my shield is strong enough that, if a building were vibranium or even just a little vibranium, it would be able to hold me to it, dangling off the side, while also holding onto the Hulk," Steve said with a soft laugh. 

Steve had asked what the practical application of that would be. Bucky had just said there wasn't, just a fact. That was the strength he'd need to make it recall the shield over large distances. "Nerd," Sam replied with a fond shake of his head. "Alright, grandpa. Lemme know what you think." 

Sam stepped back, allowing Steve to go to the mirror to examine his reflection. He had to do a double-take. Steve looked vastly different. He looked like he actually belonged in the time that he was in. Not like some relic from World War II. "Well, shit," Steve swore, touching his styled hair gently. It wasn't that different from how he'd been wearing it, but it seemed more natural. "You should go professional." 

"Nah, just spent the last seven years of my life keeping Barnes from accidentally getting that hair of his stuck in his inventions," Sam said with a shrug. "A man learns a thing or two after watching his best friend nearly get all the hair on his head ripped out because he spaced when working with a machine." 

"Jesus, has he always been–" 

"A functional disaster? Yep, that's not new," Sam said with a grin. "Alright. Let's get to that party before Barnes thinks you've left him and gone off on that mission early." 

"It's tomorrow, Nat and I leave tomorrow," Steve replied, following Sam out of the suite. "I promised to stay with him tonight . I don't even  _ want  _ to go, but I have to." 

Sam just shrugged as the two got onto the elevator, heading towards the Avengers Tower Party Deck. "Hey, you ever thought about getting your own place? For you and Bucky?" Sam asked, eyeing Steve carefully. 

"Yes and no," Steve admitted. "I've thought about it. I'd love to be back in Brooklyn. But with the way Bucky works? I'd be here all the time anyway. It's easier to get him to eat lunch if all I have to do is go to his lab and carry him back to our suite to eat." 

Sam nodded along with that. "That's a good point," he agreed. "I don't think he's gonna change anytime soon, either. He's always been an all-in type of guy." 

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the party already in full swing. Sam wandered off to find a drink. He had been invited to Tony's 'Avengers-only party' because Bucky had insisted that since it was also his birthday party, he wanted Sam to be there. 

"Steve!" Bucky called, practically tripping over Clint in his haste to get to Steve. The brunette stumbled again, falling into Steve's chest as the blonde wrapped his arms around him to stabilise him. "You look so good, Stevie." 

Steve laughed softly, tilting Bucky's chin up just enough to kiss him softly. "Thanks, Buck. Happy birthday," he murmured, tasting the traces of some kind of alcohol on Bucky's lips. The flush on Bucky's cheeks agreed that Bucky was just on the edge of tipsy. "I thought I should look the part, you know? Stop dressing like a grandpa." 

"You listening to Sam now?" Bucky giggled, nestling his nose against Steve's shoulder. "He calls ya Grandpa Rogers, 's funny. Know what else's funny?" Bucky had the cutest little smile on his face when he tipped his head to the side to look up at Steve. 

"What else is funny, baby?" Steve asked, brushing his fingers through Bucky's soft hair gently. He was careful not to tousle the style out of place. The blonde made a mental note to tell Wilson to stop calling him 'Grandpa Rogers' though. He may have been ninety-five years old,  _ technically _ ; he was only thirty years old,  _ physically _ . That wasn't that much older than Sam and Bucky. 

"I think Nat wears a contact over her soul eye," Bucky informed Steve, like he was sharing a great secret. "Said something to Clint 'bout her contact buggin' her. Does she wear them to see better? I didn't think she did. But didn't seem like a good time to ask Jarvis, right there, ya know?" 

"Yeah, as far as I know, she doesn't," Steve replied, pressing a kiss to Bucky's forehead. "But she's a pretty private person, Buck. She might not tell me if she did. Do you think she might have a white eye like we did?" 

Bucky turned in Steve's arms, his back pressed against Steve's chest as he squinted towards Natasha. "No," he said after a moment of study. "Don't think so. No. She doesn't look guarded 'bout it. Sammy used to say I looked guarded, even with the contact." 

Steve nuzzled against Bucky's neck for a brief moment, enjoying their contact. "Do you think maybe she's protecting a soulmate she hasn't met yet?" He asked, sliding his hands to hold Bucky's hips. "She's in a dangerous line of work. I think if I hadn't found you so quickly, I'd have worn a contact too. Just to keep any enemies from trying to use my soul eye against me." 

Bucky was still squinting towards Natasha. 

"Why do you ask, Buck?" Steve murmured, giving Bucky's hip a gentle squeeze. 

"Just thinking, 's all," Bucky mumbled. Steve could see the thoughts flickering behind Bucky's pale blue eyes. "Thinking her eye is pretty, blue but it's got green too, kinda like yours, but lighter. Pretty." 

Steve chuckled before starting to lead Bucky further into the party. "Yeah, come on, Buck," he murmured softly, putting his arm around Bucky's waist. "Are you hungry, baby? Have you eaten?" 

Bucky hummed, grabbing a flute of champagne as they passed the tray. "Nope," Bucky said, about to take a sip. "Had one of these though. 'S good. You should have some, Stevie." 

Steve nodded, taking what would be Bucky's second flute of champagne in an hour. "Thanks for offering, Buck," he said with a grin, downing the contents of the glass quickly so Bucky couldn't try to take it back. 

His soulmate turned wide, red-tinged eyes to him, lower lip wobbling cutely. "That was mine," Bucky whined, turning to go back to the champagne, but with Steve's arm around his waist, Bucky couldn't so much as pivot the other way. "Steve…." 

Bucky was so cute when he pouted and whined. Steve almost relented but figured he could at least get some food in Bucky before letting him have more to drink. 

"I thought you were offering to share, baby, I'm sorry," Steve murmured, giving Bucky his best apologetic face. "How about we have something to eat, and then I'll get us each our own glass, okay?" 

Bucky pursed his full lips, a soft flush high on his cheeks from the alcohol. Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead. "You hafta promise," Bucky demanded as poked Steve in the chest. "No more stealing, Stevie." 

"I promise after we eat something, we'll have our own glass, and I won't steal anymore," Steve promised, holding Bucky's hand against his chest. 

Bucky was so beautiful right now with his tight jeans, dark blue button-down, pink cheeks, and relaxed smile. Steve was the luckiest damn person on the planet, to get to call Bucky his soulmate. 

Steve and Bucky made up plates with the high-end hors d'oeuvres, half of which Steve could not identify. They smelled delicious though, and since he'd gotten the serum (and well before that if he's being frank), Steve wasn't exactly a picky eater. The sheer volume of food he had to eat to keep from crashing would have astounded his younger self, and probably triggered an asthma attack while he was at it. 

Bucky, on the other hand, appeared to be meticulously selecting specific hors d'oeuvres, carefully avoiding some of the more obscure things. It wasn't that Bucky complained about eating foods he didn't like or anything, he just only ate certain things. Steve had been at the other end of that, the day he'd brought back a blueberry muffin for Bucky from the coffee shop because they'd run out of any other kind of muffin. Steve came back a few hours later to find the pastry nibbled on, but otherwise untouched. 

His soulmate had some odd habits that Steve couldn't help but find adorable. "Stevie?" Bucky's voice interrupted his thoughts and Steve hummed his acknowledgement. "Can you get a few extra prosciutto and ricotta roll-ups for me? There's no more room on my plate." 

Bucky's pout was in full effect, and Steve obliged, putting three more roll-ups on his plate. "Of course, baby, glad to help," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Bucky's temple. 

The pair made their way to one of the tables set up around the room, and Bucky started nibbling at one of the fried foods he'd collected. "I ate, Stevie, can we have more champagne now?" Bucky asked, batting his lashes at Steve. 

"If you promise to keep eating until you eat everything," Steve countered, already knowing it was a losing battle. Like he could deny Bucky anything. 

Bucky gave him a sweet smile. "I promise, Stevie, I'll eat everything on my plate," he said, pale eyes sparkling. He tried one of the other foods and made a cute scrunched face. "Except these, they've mushrooms. I don't wanna eat mushrooms, Stevie." 

Steve laughed softly, taking the offending hors d'oeuvres from Bucky's plate and trading them with the roll-ups he'd carried for him. "How's that then, baby? Even trade," Steve asked, kissing Bucky softly. "I love you, Buck, I'll be right back." 

"Love you," Bucky murmured back, returning to absently nibbling at his food while Steve turned to get them each a glass of the sparkling grape juice that they kept on hand for occasions such as this. 

"Steven, friend!" Thor's loud voice bellowed as Steve was picking up two flutes. "I have brought ale from Asgard for you. I believe it will solve your troubles with the Midgardian drink." 

Steve smiled at the other blonde man. "Thanks, Thor, but I've got to leave first thing tomorrow on a mission," he said, turning to face the bigger man while holding the glasses. "Maybe next time. Besides, I want to keep an eye on Bucky. He's already had a glass of champagne himself, and he's – god – sitting under the table. Sorry, Thor, I have to go help him." 

"Of course, Steven, see to your soulmate," Thor said, clapping Steve on the shoulder jovially. Even with the serum, Steve jolted slightly, staggering a bit under the weight of Thor's grip. 

He slipped free, heading back towards Bucky. However, Natasha beat him to it, probably trying to coax Bucky to his feet. Steve slowed down a bit to watch. It wasn't often he saw the more compassionate side of Natasha. Not that he blamed her. They did hard work, and sometimes it was hard to be kind. 

Bucky just had a way of bringing that out in people, he supposed. He was sweet, innocent in a lot of ways, and incredibly genuine. He could be snarky, sure, but Bucky wore his heart on his sleeve. Steve was just glad he got the opportunity to help protect it. 

After a few failed attempts to get Bucky standing, Natasha simply sat next to him under the table. Steve chuckled softly, near enough to hear the conversation. 

"... promise you'll keep 'im safe, 'kay?" Bucky mumbled, his head dropping to Natasha's shoulder. Natasha was nodding, eyes finding Steve's. Her face portrayed a question and a statement in one. She seemed to be asking if Steve wanted her to move, but at the same time, telling Steve to stay back and give her a minute. 

Steve nodded, leaning against the wall far enough away not to disturb them, but close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

"I dun like when he leaves," Bucky continued, sniffling softly. Steve winced, wanting nothing more than to pull Bucky into his chest and keep him there, safe and secure. "I know that he hasta, I do. He's Cap'n 'Merica, he's 'mazing. But I miss 'im, 'n I worry 'bout 'im." 

"I know," Natasha assured him, gently patting Bucky's hair softly. "I'll watch his back, you have my word. I will make sure he comes back to you, James." Steve chuckled softly. Natasha insisted on calling Bucky by his given name for some reason. 

"You dun gotta call me that," Bucky mumbled, the pout evident in his voice. "You're m'friend, friends call me Bucky. Just wanna make sure he comes home. Dun know what I'd do if he didn't. Need him. Need m'Stevie." 

Natasha was nodding. "I know, Bucky," she murmured, surprising Steve with the use of Bucky's nickname. "He needs you too. I think you're part of the reason that he's adjusted so well to the time difference between then and now. You're good for him." 

Bucky snorted, sitting up and nearly toppling over the other way. Natasha had to catch him before he did. "Not sure 'bout that, but I just wanna be with him whenever I can," Bucky slurred, leaning his head back against the table leg. "Like, how'd this stupid kid from Brooklyn end up with Cap'n 'Merica as his soulmate, ya know?" 

"No," Natasha told him, pivoting to face Bucky head-on. "For one, you aren't stupid. I've heard from several people that you're the smartest person they've met. Including Stark, so you know it's true. And for another, you're exactly the kind of person Steve needs. He can take care of you when you need him to, and you challenge him when you don't. You give him something to do on his days off too. I've never seen someone so excited about making a coffee run." 

Bucky laughed, falling over onto Natasha's shoulder. "He always brings me a muffin," he said, still chuckling softly. "I like muffins. We should have muffins." 

Natasha caught Steve's eye again, giving him a nod, so he started making his way over them. "Hey, Buck," he said, squatting down to their eye level. He offered the glasses of juice to the pair under the table. "Brought you some champagne. Do you mind if I sit under here with you?" 

Steve considered it. It'd be a tight squeeze, but if Bucky cuddled up close to him, they'd fit well enough. After taking the glass from Steve, Bucky made a grabby hand gesture towards Steve with his free hand. 

Moving carefully, so his shoulders didn't bump the table, Steve moved into Bucky's space as the brunette's hand closed around the collar of Steve's shirt to keep him close. 

"Captain," Natasha greeted, professionally distant as she was wont. It was a far cry from the warm, almost open demeanour she'd had with Bucky. 

"Hello, Nat," Steve greeted back, smiling warmly as Bucky all but collapsed into his chest. "Happy birthday, even if it's not actually your birthday." 

"We could tell people we got the same birthday," Bucky proclaimed, sipping from the glass as he nearly spilled it all over himself and Steve as he got comfortable. "We could be like, birthday buddies." 

Natasha laughed, actually laughed. Steve could see the genuineness of it crinkle the corners of her eyes. "Sure thing, Dr. Barnes," she agreed, trying to stay separate as she often did. Bucky made a noise of protest, blindly patting for her with his face all but smushed into Steve's chest. 

"Bucky," the brunette said, fingers finding Natasha's red hair, petting it like he might stroke a cat. "You hafta call me Bucky 'cause m'friends call me Bucky. 'Cept Stevie sometimes. He calls me Buck." 

Steve smiled fondly. Bucky was so cute like this. He was soft, warm, and relaxed. Glass empty, Steve gently pulled it from Bucky's fingers and set it aside. He'd take care of it later. "Yeah, I do call you that sometimes," he murmured, brushing a kiss to the top of Bucky's head. 

Natasha surprised him though, she didn't pull away from Bucky's drunken attention, just let him idly play with her hair. "You wanna know a secret, Nat?" Bucky asked, doing his best to whisper even if his volume was precisely the same. 

"I deal in secrets frequently, Bucky," she said, indulging whatever bunny trail Bucky had found. She looked softer than Steve had ever seen, with Bucky twirling the ends of her hair as he stared at the red strands. 

"Stevie's gots these muscles," Bucky whispered conspiratorially. "Like ev'rywhere, but these ones they do…" Bucky trailed off and gestured vaguely down with the hand not playing with Natasha's hair. 

"Uh-huh," Natasha said, clearly confused but still letting Bucky talk. "What's the secret?" 

"They point to his dick," Bucky said, grinning widely as he moved his hand to whisper dramatically. Steve immediately choked on nothing, cheeks burning bright red. He flashed wide, panicked eyes at Natasha. 

The redhead just laughed, gently pulled Bucky's hand from her hair. "I think that's my cue, Bucky. Pet Steve's hair for a while, alright?" 

"Mmkay," Bucky hummed, hand relocating to play with the soft blonde hair at the top of Steve's neck. "Bye, Tasha." 

Natasha smiled again, patting Bucky's leg gently before crawling out from under the table. "Captain, I'll see you at 0700 tomorrow, wheels up at 0800," she said, slipping back into her distant persona. 

"Might be a bit late, depending on if Bucky needs anything," Steve said, gently tucking Bucky's face against his neck. The brunette made a happy sound and nuzzled closer. "But I'll be ready by 0800." 

Natasha nodded, slipping off to rejoin her party. That left Steve and Bucky alone under a table. It was one of the weirder places he'd found Bucky, and definitely among the top three strangest places he'd  _ stayed  _ with Bucky. 

"Stevie," Bucky mumbled, head falling to Steve's shoulder with a soft yawn. "I wan' you t'stay. Don't goooo." 

Steve wrapped his arms tight around Bucky, kissing his hair softly. "I want to stay too, Buck," Steve murmured, stroking his fingers through Bucky's soft hair. "But the mission needs me. It's probably only going to take a week, baby, I promise." 

Bucky mumbled something that Steve couldn't make out, and with his super hearing, he figured that meant Bucky had just made a few noises. The brunette held out his pinky to Steve, pale blue eyes solemn and severe. "Pinky promise, Stevie," he demanded, wiggling his little finger. "You gotta pinky promise, 'kay?" 

Steve smiled softly, hooking his pinky around Bucky's. "I pinky promise, baby," he said softly, leaning down to kiss Bucky softly. "I will always come home to you. Always." 

"'Kay," Bucky said softly, nuzzling at Steve's neck briefly. "Stevie, there's cake. I wanna blow out the candles now. Help?" 

Steve laughed, helping Bucky out from under the table. His soulmate staggered a bit, slumping into Steve's chest with a giggle. "Stevie," he said through his giggles, hugging Steve about the waist. "Ya strong, Stevie. Like it." 

"I know you do," Steve chuckled softly, tilting Bucky's chin up for a kiss. "Let's go find Pepper and ask about your cake, okay?" 

Bucky nodded, leaning heavily into Steve. "Carry me, Stevie, please?" Bucky asked, tugging at Steve's shirt lightly. Steve made a show of rolling his eyes, but he turned to slide his hands beneath Bucky's thighs and lifted his soulmate into his arms effortlessly. 

Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve's waist, curling his body into Steve's. "There you go, Buck," Steve whispered, shifting Bucky's weight into one arm. "I've got you." 

Steve carried Bucky across the room, heading towards the strawberry blonde hair that was Pepper Potts. "Hey, Ms. Potts," Steve began, wincing a bit as he interrupted her conversation. Bucky's hand was tangled in Steve's blonde hair, teasing at it absently and he snuggled in closer. 

"Steve, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Pepper?" The woman asked, smiling at him. She turned away from Bruce a bit, opening up to include Steve and Bucky in a small circle. "Dr. Barnes, you seem comfy." 

"Mmhmm," Bucky hummed, nose sliding along Steve's jaw. "Comfy with m'Stevie." 

Steve chuckled softly. "Bucky was asking about cake? Is there an itinerary or can we do that? I think he's about to fall asleep. He's had a glass of champagne." 

"I had  _ two,"  _ Bucky proudly proclaimed from his perch in Steve's arms. Steve gave Bucky's thighs a gentle squeeze. Pepper's face immediately crumpled with worry, but Steve gave her a conspiratorial wink and she visibly relaxed.

"I'm glad he's got you to watch out for him," Pepper said with a smile. "Usually, this is the point someone had to run after him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself." 

"Is that a frequent occurrence?" Bruce asked, concern wrinkling his face. "Needing to make sure Dr. Barnes doesn't injure himself?" 

"Bucky doesn't hold his alcohol well," Steve explained, ignoring Bucky's indignant squawk. The brunette tried to lean back, to look at Bruce upside down, but Steve held fast to him, keeping him mostly upright. "Easy baby, don't fall and hurt yourself, okay?" 

"Stevie," Bucky whined, ruffling Steve's hair. "Cake? Can we have cake?" 

"I think that can be arranged," Pepper assured them, stepping away to get the cake situation sorted. 

"Dr. Barnes, did you get Tony's schematic for his Ultron Defence Program?" Bruce asked, clearly just trying to make conversation. Steve hadn't managed to get very close to the scientist during their time with the Avengers. Bruce seemed to gravitate more towards Bucky when they were in social situations together. Steve didn't blame him though, Bucky was a scientist-type, could talk about whatever they talked about. 

"Mmhmm," Bucky hummed, pulling Steve's hair around like he might direct a horse. He gave Bucky a stern look but turned so Bucky could face Bruce more easily. "'S not gonna work. And 's Bucky, m'friends call me Bucky 'kay?" 

"It's an interesting project all the same," Bruce said, smiling at Bucky and Steve. "Tony is working on a defence system to supplement the Avengers team. We can't be everywhere." 

Steve nodded, but he felt uneasy with the idea. Then again, Steve was apprehensive about a lot of things like that. He figured it was mostly because he didn't understand it. He felt uneasy when his phone did the autocorrect thing and guessed the word he'd been trying to text. 

He tuned out Bucky and Bruce's conversation, focus flickering to the rest of the party while Bucky slurred some kind of science talk from where he'd rested his head against Steve's shoulder. 

The rest of the party was in full swing. Natasha was chatting with Colonel Rhodes, Sam was losing a game of darts with Clint, and Thor was drinking jovially and floating around people to laugh and enjoy their company. Pepper must have taken Tony to get the cake together. 

After they sang to Bucky and Natasha and had their cake (all the while, Bucky refused to let Steve put him down), Steve carried Bucky to their suite. "Baby, you still awake?" Steve asked softly, kissing Bucky's temple. "I want to give you your present if you're awake." 

"You didn't hafta get me anything," Bucky mumbled, sounding sleepy. "You're the best, Stevie. The best." 

Steve settled Bucky on the couch, slowly prying his soulmate's arms from around his neck. Steve grabbed the small wrapped package and handed it to Bucky. 

With a sweet little smile, Bucky opened the package, only to freeze when he saw the contents. "Stevie?" He whispered, touching his gift reverently. "Are… are you sure?" 

Bucky sounded more sober than he had earlier. He pulled the chain and lifted Steve's old dog tags from the paper. The tags clinked together as Bucky stared at them. 

"Yes," Steve assured, taking the tags from Bucky to drape them around his neck. "I'm very sure. Without the Army, I wouldn't have been chosen for Project Rebirth, and without Project Rebirth, I'd never have survived to meet you. So, yes. You're the only person that I would want to wear these." 

"Keeps you close," Bucky murmured, touching the tags around his neck. "I'm never gonna take 'em off." 

Steve chuckled softly, kissing Bucky softly. "Actually, I wouldn't shower in them," he said with a smile. "Those are like seventy years old, so they might rust or something." 

"Mmm, dog tags after 1940 were made with stainless steel," Bucky told him, tucking the tags under his shirt. "But I'll take them off if it makes you feel better. But thank you, Steve. This… this is the best gift I've ever gotten." 

Steve kissed Bucky again, resting his hand over the tags. He was about to lift Bucky into his arms and carry him to bed when Bucky deepened the kiss, pulling Steve down over him. "Stevie," he murmured as Steve gently pulled himself away.

"Baby, let's go to bed," he said gently, brushing his fingers through Bucky's hair. "Natasha will kill me for being late to report, but let's do our customary send-off in the morning."

"Noo," Bucky whined, but his eyes were already dropping closed. "'M sleepy, Stevie."

"I know," Steve murmured, lifting Bucky into his arms and kissing his forehead. "Happy birthday, Bucky."

His soulmate was asleep against Steve's shoulder before he had the chance to lay the brunette in the bed. Steve chuckled softly, a quiet, affectionate thing. He pulled Bucky's shoes off and set them aside before he undressed himself down to his boxer-briefs.

He crawled into bed behind Bucky, slinging an arm around his waist. It wasn't long before Steve, too, fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so, so much love to my beautiful beta, [Aere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwanna_seeyou_undoit/pseuds/gentleau). You are a star and I love you. As usual, any mistakes that remain are my own.

Bucky absently thumbed through the holo schematics Tony uploaded for him, his other thumb hooked in the smaller chain of Steve's dog tags. "I don't know, Stark," Bucky hummed softly. "This whole robotic global defence system thing doesn't seem viable."

Tony was across Bucky's workstation, looking at the same schematics. "We have to do something," he countered, squinting in concentration. "I'll call Banner. But the Avengers are only six people, Buck-o. We can't do it all." 

Bucky nodded. He really did get it. He was missing Steve something fierce since his soulmate had been called away on a covert mission with Natasha. They'd only been able to talk once during the week Steve'd been gone already. If Tony's defence system worked, Steve could be home more. 

"Dr. Barnes, Dr. Banner is requesting access," Jarvis' voice sounded, pulling up a small screen depicting Bruce Banner with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

"You barred entry?" Tony asked, looking at Bucky with a raised brow. 

"Always do, the interns try to sneak in and disrupt my work," Bucky replied with a casual shrug. He let the tags fall against his chest, the soft ting of metal on metal soothing in an odd way. He felt like he had a piece of Steve with him. "Let him in, Jarvis. He's alright. And send Steve a ping, see if he can talk later, please." 

"Missing the Capsicle, eh?" Tony asked as the door opened and Bruce shuffled in. "When's the last time you slept, Barnes?" 

Bucky shrugged. He hadn't slept since Steve left. "Good sleep? Been almost six days," he said, swiping up all of Tony's schematics at once. "Since Steve left. I've gotten a few small naps in here or there, but nothing to write home about. And no, I'm not leaving you and Bruce alone in my lab again." 

"I am still sorry about that," Bruce admitted, rubbing the back of his neck idly. "You should think about sleeping, Dr. Barnes. Sleep is necessary for your health." 

Bucky waved him off. "Can't," he admitted, pulling his hair up in a messy bun. "Got used to sleeping with Steve, and now that he's gone it's impossible. All I do is lay there and worry about him. And you don't have to call me that. We're colleagues here. You can call me Bucky." 

"Alright, children," Tony interrupted, shaking his head slightly. "Can we focus on the viability of the Ultron Defence Program?" 

"I don't think it is, Stark," Bucky repeated, more for Bruce's benefit than Tony's. "You'd need some kind of crazy advanced artificial intelligence. More advanced than Jarvis. Without that, it's human-shaped Dum-E." 

"I have to agree with him, Tony," Bruce added, glasses perched on his nose. The other doctor stood next to Bucky as he frowned at the schematics on Bucky's holo screen. "This kind of program would require human-like problem-solving capabilities. If it's supposed to be Avengers-like security, you'd want to find a way to get the best of each of us." 

Tony nodded. "Jarvis, start a list. I want to make sure we list the best qualities of each Avenger," he said, fingers stroking his goatee. 

"Dr. Barnes," Jarvis said, after creating a small list window. "The SHIELD STRIKE Commander is on the line. He says it's an urgent call." 

Bucky frowned, grabbing his StarkPhone. Steve was on a mission for SHIELD, and Bucky felt prickles of terror crawling up his spine. His hand immediately moved to Steve's tags, the metal warmed from Bucky playing with them. "Give me a second," he told Tony and Bruce, moving to the window to take the call. "This is Dr. Barnes." 

"Dr. Barnes, we require your presence at SHIELD headquarters," the voice said, oddly familiar but Bucky couldn't place it. "It's a matter of worldwide security." 

Bucky frowned, terror still heavy in his stomach. "Worldwide security?" he repeated. "Hold on a second." 

Bucky tapped the hold button on his phone and looked over to Tony and Bruce. "Hey, you guys know of any Avengers-level threats out there right now?" 

Bruce shook his head, and Tony shrugged. "Not that I know of, Buckaroo," the other man replied. "Want me to call Rhodey and double-check?" 

"Nah," Bucky said, frowning just a bit. "SHIELD's just being dramatic again, probably. Thanks." 

Bucky took the call off hold. "Okay, try again," he said, looking out at the New York skyline. "No worldwide threats on the radars of two Avengers, so why does SHIELD need me?" 

"We require the information to access the tracking system you put on Captain America's suit," the agent said. The cold terror Bucky already felt turned subzero. He felt the world tilt, threatening to drop Bucky off the side of Stark Tower. "We attempted to track him through the SHIELD-issued tracking, but that tracker is either offline or damaged. It'll only take–" 

"Offline or damaged?" Bucky echoed, interrupting the agent with a small, scared voice. The floor disappeared beneath him, and Bucky was falling. The phone clattered out of his hand as he stared unseeingly at the city. His hand closed tightly around Steve's tags, and his mind went blank, only echoing  _ Steve. _

"Barnes," a voice called, and Bucky could swear that it was Tony, but he couldn't focus.  _ Stevestevestevesteve. _ "James. Bucky, come on, breathe." Huh. He wasn't breathing. He forced himself to take a shaky breath. 

"Steve," Bucky wheezed, coming back to himself to see Tony's face crinkled in worry. He felt arms behind him, keeping him on his feet. "Steve." 

"It's okay, Bucky," Bruce said, his voice behind him. "Keep breathing for me." Bruce began walking Bucky through a breathing exercise as the two men navigated him into a chair. His legs felt like jelly, and his body was shaking uncontrollably. 

Tony grabbed Bucky's phone, frowning from it to Bucky. "Yeah, this is Tony Stark," the man said into the phone. "No, Dr. Barnes is not available right now. Yeah, you can hold." Tony tapped the screen and set the phone aside. 

"Okay, Buck-o," Tony was back in front of him, shoulder to shoulder with Bruce. "We're going to think a bit, okay? What do we know?" 

"Steve," Bucky whimpered, becoming aware that he was gripping Bruce's forearm tightly. He tried to relax his grip, but his muscles weren't responding to him. 

"He's got your communicator, right?" Tony asked, hand resting on Bucky's shoulder comfortingly. Bucky nodded, taking in a shaky breath. "Good, so we're going to call him, okay? It's part of the tracker system, right?" 

Bucky nodded again. Tony and Bruce wheeled him over to his work table. "Jarvis, pull up Bucky's communicator system with Cap," Tony instructed. "Bucky, can you get into your encryption right now? I can't hack it, you know I've tried." 

Bucky just nodded and let Tony pry his hand from Bruce's arm and move it towards the holo table. He mindlessly entered the system of codes and passwords until the blinking star appeared on the screen. 

Bucky felt some relief wash over him. His tracker wasn't damaged. Tony tapped his finger at the call button on the screen, and the star began to pulse out the red and white stripes. "Bucky, hey, I was going to call tonight, I got your message from Jarvis," Steve's voice filled the lab. 

Bucky sobbed with relief, going completely boneless, and it was only thanks to Bruce that he didn't slide right out of the chair. "Bucky, baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Steve sounded worried now. "Are you hurt? I'll come home. Nat can handle–" 

"Easy, Cap," Tony interrupted, Bucky's hand now in a death grip around  _ his _ forearm. "Barnes is fine, physically. Some jackass from SHIELD told him they couldn't track you and he had a panic attack. He's still not all the way back from it. He's not said anything but your name since it started." 

"Stevie," Bucky whimpered, squeezing Tony's arm tightly. He was grounded by Bruce's hands on his shoulders, Tony's arm under Bucky's grip, and the press of the embossed metal against his palm. Hearing Steve's voice helped more than anything else could. 

"I'm here, baby," Steve murmured, voice smooth. "I'm okay, Buck. I'll be home soon too. I promise. Tony, do we know who triggered this?" Bucky was acutely aware that he was still whimpering softly, relaxing only slightly when Bruce began to smooth a hand along Bucky's shoulders. 

"Nah, we didn't get a name, I was more concerned with Barnes," Tony replied, slowly prying Bucky's fingers from his forearm. "Bucky, I'm going to grab your phone and see who we put on hold. I'll put it on speaker okay?" 

Bucky nodded, blinking at Tony's back as he retrieved Bucky's StarkPhone. "Hi, no, this is still Tony," Tony said, hitting the speaker button. 

"I need to speak with Dr. Barnes," the agent demanded, and Bucky heard himself whine. Hearing the voice brought the panic rising up in his chest again. Bruce just squeezed his shoulders gently, keeping Bucky in the moment. 

"Not happening right now, agent," Tony replied, casually returning his arm so that Bucky could hold on to it again. "We didn't get your name, though." 

"Agent Brock Rumlow, STRIKE Commander," the agent replied. "Put Dr. Barnes on now. It's a matter of national security." 

There was a beat of silence. "Hey," Steve's voice echoed in, undoubtedly loud enough for Rumlow to hear. "You're the asshole that tried to arrest Bucky for trying to go to work." 

"Cap-Captain America, sir," Rumlow stammered, sounding wholly taken aback to hear Steve's voice. "You, uh, you're not on the mission, sir?" 

"Oh, I am," Steve replied. "It's a communications dark mission, I know. But Bucky's communicator is completely encrypted and safe to use in the field. And normally, I'd wait to call him at night when we bed down, but when he calls without prompting, I take the call. Glad I did. I'll be having words with Fury about this. Bucky is not a SHIELD scientist. He's not a SHIELD agent. You do not get to call him to ask for anything. If I find that you pull anything like this again, it won't matter that you're the STRIKE Commander. Bucky works for Stark Industries, and unless there's a contract for him to work with you, you do not call him under any circumstances." 

Bucky felt himself relax further. Steve sounded so in control, so confident. It put him at ease to hear it. "Yes, Captain," Rumlow bit out, clearly irritated by the chastising tone of Steve's voice. "Sorry for the inconvenience." 

The call clicked off, and Bucky exhaled shakily. "Buck, you still with me, baby?" Steve asked, star pulsing the stripes in time with Steve's voice. 

"Y-yeah, Steve," Bucky whined softly, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into Steve's arms. 

"Baby, I'll be home tomorrow, okay, I promise," Steve said softly. "We're almost done with our mission, then I'll be home with you. Will you be okay, Buck? Do you want to ask Tony to text Sam for you? Maybe have him take you out to the coffee shop? Get a hot chocolate and a muffin?" 

"Yeah," Bucky whispered, feeling the terror finally start to drain away from his body. "Hot chocolate and a muffin." 

"Tony, could you please text Sam Wilson for me?" Steve asked, as though Tony hadn't heard everything he said. "Please don't leave Bucky alone until I get back, okay? Either you, or Sam, or Bruce, or Clint, just, someone." 

"You've got it, Rogers," Tony said, patting Bucky's fingers where they were still clamped onto his arm. "We'll keep an eye on him for you. He'll be alright." 

"Thanks, Tony," Steve said. "Bucky, doll, I have to go back to work, okay? I love you, Buck." 

"Love you too, Stevie," Bucky said softly, wishing again that Steve was actually with him right now. "Be safe." 

"Always am, Buck," Steve murmured, and the stripes around the star faded as Steve disconnected their call. Bucky just stared at the star still on the screen, blinking cheerily as it reminded Bucky that it was still working well, that Steve was still alright. 

Bucky relaxed his grip on Tony's arm, flinching a bit at the red mark he'd left behind. He released Steve's dog tags to fall against his chest. He glanced at his palm, Steve's name pressed into the skin. 

"Alright, Buck-o," Tony said as he and Bruce helped Bucky to his feet. "We're going to get you downstairs to your buddy Sam. He's going to take you for coffee. I'm gonna give you one of my watches though." 

"Why?" Bucky asked as Tony began fitting one of his Iron Man Gauntlet watches to Bucky's wrist. He was a bit curious as to how they worked – maybe he'd study the schematics later. Bucky had been thinking of creating a sleeve for himself, just in case Steve needed some help, so he could have more than just, Bucky. 

"Because it's got Jarvis built into it and I'm still worried about you," Tony explained, pressing a button on the side to make the time illuminate on Bucky's wrist. "I want him to be able to tell me if you end up having another panic attack. You haven't slept well in six days, Buckaroo, and you're still shaking. Humour me, alright?" 

"Okay," Bucky nodded, letting Tony and Bruce walk him to the elevator. "Steve's okay, though, right? That wasn't just… a hallucination?" 

"Steve's okay," Bruce assured him, patting Bucky's back gently. "We all heard him, promise. Now, you go ahead and get your hot chocolate and your muffin and relax." 

Bucky nodded and tucked the tags beneath his shirt, elevator doors sliding open to reveal a very worried looking Sam. "Is he okay? Bucky, man, you look terrible," his best friend said, taking Bucky's arm from Tony. 

"Thanks, Sammy," Bucky mumbled, dropping his head onto Sam's shoulder as his friend pulled him into a tight hug. "Just felt… terrible. Steve's okay, though. He's okay." 

"Yeah, Steve's just fine man," Sam promised, ruffling Bucky's hair and messing it from the already messy bun he'd had it in. "Steve's fine, and so are you. Come on, let's go to the coffee shop you like. I called, they have those coffee cake muffins today." 

Bucky nodded. He did like those muffins. They were his favourites. Steve brought him one every time they had them. "I don't remember the last time I ate," Bucky admitted, feeling his stomach rumble angrily at him. 

"We'll get something in you besides coffee now, Bucky, don't worry man," Sam said softly, guiding Bucky across the street to the coffee shop. "I'm going to leave you at the table, Bucky, then I'll get the hot chocolate and muffins, okay?" 

Bucky nodded, settling himself in the seat. He let the smell of coffee soothe the last of his frayed nerves. Soon, he'd have a muffin, and yeah, Bucky realised just how hungry he was. 

"One hot chocolate and one coffee cake muffin for the good doctor," Sam said, putting their drinks and muffins on the table. Bucky wasted no time digging into the muffin, eating quickly. "Hey man, slow down, the muffin ain't going nowhere." 

Bucky pouted at Sam, but he obliged. He slowed down to really enjoy the muffin, subtly eyeing Sam's. He wondered as to the likelihood of successfully stealing it. "You could just ask," Sam said with a laugh, sliding the plate over to him. "If it gets you eating, man, I won't complain. I have a bad feeling you haven't eaten since Steve left. You look underfed, Barnes." 

Bucky felt his cheeks flush as he tore into Sam's muffin. "I've been working, you know?" he admitted softly. "I've been trying to work out like a metal sleeve, sorta like a bionic arm type deal, only goes over my arm, not like a prosthetic, since I have an arm, you know?" 

"Why?" Sam asked, sipping at his coffee. "What could you possibly need a bionic arm-sleeve for?" 

"My soulmate's Captain America," Bucky explained. "Someday, he might need my help, and I can't do that without  _ something  _ extra. A whole suit is Tony's thing, but like a bionic-style arm might be neat. Could augment my strength, maybe even add like flame throwers or something cool. I dunno. I want to call T'Challa again, see if he can hook me up with some vibranium." 

"T'Challa's the guy that kept your dumb ass out of trouble when I did those two tours with the Air Force, right?" Sam asked. Bucky had told him about T'Challa before, but that had been a hard time for Sam. He'd lost his wingman, a man that Bucky had only met on Skype calls. Riley had been a good person, and Bucky wished even now that he could have met him in person. 

"Yeah, he was the exchange student that they roomed with the weird eighteen-year-old kid getting his PhD while living in the dorms because it was the first time he could act as a regular college kid. T'Challa's like five years older than I am, so he did the big brother thing a lot. He's cool. You'd like him, I think." 

"He kept your ass out of trouble," Sam said with a shrug. "Anyone who does that is alright in my book. That's why I'm cool with your old-fashioned, white-bread soulmate." 

Bucky snorted into his hot chocolate. "Please," he said with a laugh. "You genuinely like Steve. He's a really good guy. God, I got so lucky that he's my soulmate." 

"I'll give you that, man, as far as soulmates go, you did pretty great," Sam agreed, a flicker of sadness washing over his usually happy face. They were twenty-nine years old now, and it had been three years since Steve came back from the apparently dead and changed Bucky's life. But Sam still had the pretty, blue-green hazel soul eye. 

"We'll find yours soon, Sammy," Bucky promised, already planning on getting Steve to help with some of his SHIELD clearances. "Then we can do like, double tower dates." 

"Double tower dates?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. Bucky nodded, the muffins perking him up more than he'd been since Steve left on his mission. "Why in the tower?" 

"Steve's Captain America," Bucky explained, shrugging casually. "He has a hard time going out to public places without getting recognised. We tried for our first anniversary, after the alien thing, and well, you remember the tabloids. I'm just lucky they had a hard time getting a good shot of my face beyond Steve's everything, you know?" 

Sam nodded, obviously remembering the part after that, where Bucky had gotten a bit tipsy and lamented to Sam that Steve was so recognisable that they couldn't go out anywhere. Steve and Bucky had their date nights in the tower since then. The tower's party deck had a great view after all. 

"I should probably get back to work," Bucky said after finishing the two muffins and his hot chocolate. "Thanks for bringing me out. I'm feeling a lot better." 

"Any time, man," Sam said, as the two started heading outside. "What's a best bro for?" 

"Well, I got the best bro I could ask for," Bucky said, turning over his shoulder to smile at Sam. Only, Sam wasn't there. Frowning, Bucky started walking back towards the coffee shop when a solid object collided with the back of his head. 

Bucky felt the world fade as he dropped to the ground, blackness overwhelming him as he landed hard. The last thing he noticed was a pair of arms hauling him into an SUV before the world dimmed completely and Bucky blacked out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag Note (Panic Attacks): At one point in this, Bucky has a panic attack. The panic attack is severe. If this bothers you but you still want to read, skip the paragraph starting with "'Offline or damaged?'" and skip to the paragraph starting with "'Not happening right now, agent'". What you'll miss is pretty simple. Bucky is given the indication that something may have happened to Steve on a mission, which triggers the attack. However, Steve is 100% fine and is confirmed when Tony calls Steve so Bucky can hear his voice.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was about to tear into the cardboard flavoured MRE after setting camp when the communicator on his chest pulsed, vibrating in morse code. Steve froze. SOS. Fuck, fuck, Bucky. He scrambled for his phone, breaking the number one rule and turning on the device.

"Rogers, you're not supposed to be using that," Natasha scolded, as she ate her own meal. "SHIELD is going to kill you for that." 

Steve shook his head, pulling up Sam's contact. "Bucky's communicator," Steve said by way of explanation, pointing at the star on his chest. "It's a message from Jarvis, an SOS, and Bucky would have called if it was an emergency. That means something's happened to Bucky and this is the only way Sam and Tony can get to me." 

He dialled the phone, waiting only through one ring before Sam answered. "Steve, thank god," the man said, sounding relieved and worried in the same breath. "You gotta get home now." 

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, feeling sick to his stomach. "Sam, where's Bucky? What happened to Bucky?" 

"I'm sorry, man," Sam answered. "I should have been paying more attention, and–" 

"Sam, where the fuck is Bucky?" Steve demanded, already packing up his kit. He didn't care if Natasha would come with him, but Steve was taking the Quinjet and going home. 

"He's gone," Sam told him. "We were walking back from the coffee shop, someone knocked me out, and when I came to, he was being shoved into a car and driven away." 

Steve let out a growl that could only be described as pure rage. "I'll be there in an hour," he snarled, hanging up and turning to Natasha. "Bucky's been taken, and I'm going home. You can come or not, but I'm taking the jet." 

"And you're a shit pilot, so I'll be there," Natasha said, throwing her own kit together. "Besides, I like Barnes. As if I wouldn’t help you get him back." Steve only nodded back as the two packed the remains of their camp in a hurry. 

"Get on," Steve instructed, dropping low enough for Natasha to climb on his back. "The quinjet isn't close, and I'm not walking back." It wasn't a point Steve was going to debate. Someone had his soulmate, and Steve wasn't going to rest until Bucky was back in his arms, safe and sound. Steve was never leaving home again. 

Natasha seemed to understand, though, just climbing onto Steve's back. "You run, and I'll let SHIELD know what's happening," Natasha said, already pulling out her communicator. Steve nodded once before he took off at a dead sprint towards where they'd left the jet. Steve had never run so fast in his entire life, and he regularly outran vehicles in his line of work. He'd never run this fast for this long before, either, giving a real test to his superhuman endurance. He thanked Dr. Erskine for a lot of things, but at this moment, maybe he thanked him more than ever. 

Steve literally slid to a stop after sprinting the sixty-eight miles they'd travelled over the course of the mission as the quinjet finally came into sight. Natasha climbed off his back, going immediately to get the jet up and running. 

Steve was surprised to find himself short of breath. It reminded him of when his asthma had actually been a factor for him, and he couldn't draw a breath without wondering if his airways would just decide to close on him. He dropped into one of the seats, feeling the slight burn of muscle fatigue at the edges of his awareness. 

Grabbing the communicator linked to the one he'd given Sam, Steve fit it over his ear. Firing off a quick text to the man, Steve waited only a moment for the crackle of the other end going live. "Nat and I just got on the quinjet," he said instead of a greeting. "Nat's flying, I'm talking. We'll be back in one hour, tops. Get Bruce, Tony and Clint to wait in the briefing room. And try to get in touch with Thor, please? I know he went back to Asgard, but I'd at least like him to know the situation." 

"And what about me?" Sam asked, stopping Steve's orders. He just frowned a bit. "What do you want me to do after that? Look, I know you've gone all 'Avengers Assemble' here, but Bucky's my brother. I want to help." 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, still crooked from when he'd had it broken one too many times. "Sam, this is dangerous," he said, sounding a bit exasperated. "Bucky would be furious if he knew I let a civilian get involved. Especially if that civilian is you." 

"Fuck that," Sam snapped, one of the few people Steve had ever had that stood up to him after becoming Captain America. "I'm already involved. They knocked me out to take him, and I'm helping to get him back. So you better make sure your plans include me, Rogers, because you ain't leaving me at home." 

"Fine, have Tony get you set up to do tech," Steve relented, feeling a bit hollow. That's usually what Bucky did when Steve needed it. His heart clenched. Fuck, he should have been home. If he'd been home, Bucky would be safe right now. 

"I want to really help," Sam protested, and Steve could see the glare on his face with his tone. "Look, when you get here, at least let me show you my resume, alright? Before you say no?" 

Steve wanted to snap, wanted to tell Sam to shut the fuck up. But that wasn't fair. He wasn't upset with Sam. He was upset with the situation and himself. It wasn't fair to take it out on Sam. "Fine, I'll look," Steve growled, feeling lightheaded and sick to his stomach. "Just get them to the briefing room. We'll be there soon." 

Steve pulled the communicator out of his ear with a frustrated noise. He couldn't do this. He couldn't lead the team when all he could think of was Bucky and getting him home safe. He hadn't felt this adrift since he woke up in 2011 with no idea what was really going on. 

"You know, you shouldn't be so hard on him," Natasha's voice interrupted Steve's thoughts. "Of all the people that like Dr. Barnes and want him home safe, you and Wilson care the most about him. You might be Barnes' soulmate, but you can't ignore the fact that he and Wilson have been as close as family since they were kids." 

"Bucky wouldn't want Sam involved," Steve argued, knowing his defence was weak as far as they went. "He wouldn't want me to endanger Sam's life by letting him help." 

"It's not your call what Barnes would want, and it's not your call if Wilson wants to get involved," Natasha countered, telling him things he already knew. "The least you can do is look at whatever it is, he wanted to show you with an open mind." 

Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. "He wants to show me his 'resume'," he said with a slight sneer. It wasn't fair to be talking about Sam like this. Steve genuinely liked the guy, and he respected his loyalty to Bucky throughout the years. "Like that'll have anything useful. He's not an Avenger, and he doesn't have powers." 

"Steve Rogers, you're an idiot," Natasha chastised. "There are six Avengers, and half of us are human with no enhancements. Keep an open mind, he might surprise you." 

"Since when are you friendly with Sam?" Steve asked petulantly. He couldn't stop himself, it seemed. Steve just didn't want to risk upsetting Bucky when they saved him if he found out that Steve had let his best friend get hurt on Bucky's behalf. 

"We talked at the party," she said smoothly, as if it were obvious. "He's funny, and I think he's honest. So if he says he has something to show you that would be useful, you owe it to him and Bucky to see it." 

Steve wanted to snap that he didn't owe anyone anything. But that wasn't exactly true. He owed Dr. Erskine for what he'd been given. He owed Peggy to live the life she wanted for him, the one she told him about during one of his visits where she'd been lucid. He owed Bucky for easing his way into the twenty-first century and for being precisely the soulmate that Steve had always dreamed of (better really, if he's being honest). He owed each of the Avengers for saving his life on a few occasions. And he did owe Sam, for the times when the mission was terrible, and he stayed with Bucky until Steve could get back to him. 

"Fine," Steve acquiesced. She was right, as she tended to be. "I'll hear him out with an open mind." Natasha nodded her approval before returning her complete focus to flying the quinjet back home. 

Steve sat back, dropped his head into his hands and tried his damndest not to let himself cry. Emotions could wait, he needed to stay focused for Bucky. He had to be sharp if he was going to bring him home. 

It seemed like an entire lifetime before they finally arrived at Avengers Tower. Natasha and Steve both jogged towards the briefing room where Sam was waiting outside the door for them. 

"How's everyone?" Steve asked. Maybe he was stalling a bit, but he needed to get his head on straight if he wasn't going to outright deny Sam's proposal. 

"Well, Dr. Banner is in noise-cancelling headphones, burning incense, and otherwise meditating," Sam explained, wincing a bit. "They stink, but if it keeps the big guy away, for now, I'll take it. Barton's on his fifth cup of coffee. And Stark's been pacing and trying to figure out if the watch he gave Bucky was damaged or just removed because he can't get a read on his vitals." 

Steve clasped his hands around the buckle of his belt, a move that helped him disguise the way his hands shook. Captain America couldn't be sick with nerves, and while it was okay for Steve Rogers to be, he needed to be Captain America right now. Lest he found himself in the bathroom, emptying whatever contents were in his stomach (which seeing as he hadn't eaten his MRE was likely nothing but bile). 

Sam handed Steve a folder. "There, my resume," the man said by way of explanation. Steve nearly gave it back and told him no again, but instead, he passed it to Natasha. Steve was too invested in this. It was too personal. She'd be more objective than he could be. 

Glancing at it, Natasha's face looked surprised, an expression Steve wasn't used to seeing on the Black Widow. "Is this Bakhmala?" she asked, glancing up at Sam with respect as well as surprise. "The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you? Neither of you mentioned he was a Pararescue." 

Steve took the picture from the front of the folder, looking at it with a little frown. "Is this Riley?" he asked, remembering Sam mentioning once about losing his wingman. It had been the pain of losing one of his two best friends that had sent him home to look after the other. He didn't often talk about him, but Bucky had mentioned meeting over Skype once. He'd said Riley was a good man. 

"Yeah," was all Sam offered by way of explanation. He looked as high strung and nervous as Steve felt, but determined. He wouldn't likely take no for an answer if Natasha decided against it. 

"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers because of the RPGs," Natasha continued, either oblivious to the men's dialogue or choosing to ignore it. It was probably the latter. She was professional now, appraising Sam's potential as an asset to the mission of saving Steve's soulmate. "What did you use? A stealth chute?" 

Sam moved forward, shuffling through the papers. "No," he said, handing over a smaller folder. "These." 

Steve stared at the cover before glancing at Sam. "I thought you said you were a pilot?" he asked, feeling a bit surprised. Sam had never lied to him before. 

"I never said pilot," Sam said, flashing Steve a wry grin. "Bucky always says pilot." 

That was even more confusing. Bucky was precise, sometimes to a fault. If he knew Sam wasn't a pilot, he wouldn't be calling him one. "Bucky doesn't know, does he," Steve stated. It wasn't a question, not really. He knew Bucky well, and maybe not as well as Sam did, but well enough. 

"No, never told him," Sam confirmed, looking a tad sheepish at the confession. "If he'd known I was a test pilot for something he hadn't seen the specs for, whew. He'd never have slept the entire time I was gone." 

Steve nodded, a sad smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I can't ask you to do this, Sam," he said, feeling like he needed to give Sam a chance to back out on his own. He didn't know what Natasha was thinking; her face had returned to its typical neutral expression. "You got out for a good reason, and you never told Bucky about the details. I can't expect you to do this." 

"Dude, Captain America needs my help rescuing his soulmate and my best friend," Sam replied, waving off Steve's concern. "There's no better reason to get back in. No better time to tell Bucky the truth either." 

"Nat, what do you think?" Steve asked, turning his attention to the redhead. She pursed her lips and gave Sam an appraising look. 

"I think we could use someone with this skill set," she said, nodding her approval. "Someone who can fly with actual combat missions to his credit could be a beneficial addition. At least for this mission." 

Steve nodded, deferring to Natasha's judgement. "Alright, where do we get our hands on one of these?" he asked, tapping the schematic of the winged jet pack. 

"In a pinch? The last one is at Fort Meade," Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall." 

"Been planning a bit over there?" Steve asked, unable to keep the smile off his face. "That's an awful lot of specifics." 

Sam just shrugged, returning Steve's grin. "Call it idly pondering about getting back something I lost," he said by way of explanation. 

"Before you boys go off to plan your great heist," Natasha interrupted, putting a hand on each of their arms and directing them into the briefing room. "We'll have Stark make a call, see how his money talks." 

"Yes ma'am," Sam said, turning his grin to Natasha. "Be nice not to have to become a criminal just to get my best friend back." He was smiling, but there was a sadness in his mismatched eye colour. Huh. Steve never really noticed that Sam had one dark brown eye and one blue-green one before. Well, he'd noticed, but it had never really registered with him until now. He should see if Sam wanted him to help with that after they get Bucky back. 

Guided by Natasha, they stepped into the briefing room. Tony stopped pacing and tapped Bruce on the shoulder. Clint glanced up from his coffee mug. The three men's attention focused on the three entering the room. 

"Cap, good of you to get here," Tony said, sitting on the table with his feet in one of the chairs. Usually, Steve would tell him off for that, but today, not so much. "So, we managed to track the signal from the gauntlet I gave him to Washington D.C., but there it was either taken into some kind of signal jammed room, or it's been broken. And well, since it's Iron Man tech, I'm inclined to think the former." 

Steve frowned, standing near the table with his hands on his belt again. "What do you mean, Stark? Do they know he's wearing it?" he asked, scowling in thought. "And I thought you could track your Iron Man suits through signal jamming things?" 

"Normally, I can," Tony said, sliding a pair of glasses onto his face. "However, the gauntlet is a prototype. At the moment, it's a slightly smarter FitBit that has Jarvis capability. They wouldn't know what it was, again, prototype. I gave it to Buck-o to monitor his vitals when he went out. He was still off from the incident prior, so we were being cautious." 

"So it's likely they'd be blocking signals anyway, even without the watch," Steve concluded. "Either worried that Bucky has a tracker on him somewhere or just cautious about any kind of signal escaping their hideout." 

"Ooh, hideout," Clint chimed in, looking oddly cheerful save for the worry creasing his brow. "Like a regular Saturday morning cartoon villain. Let's get them monologuing." 

Natasha shot Clint a look, and he shrugged unapologetically. "Everyone's so grim and dour. Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. A little joke now and then won't stop us from rescuing Bucky," he defended, draining the last of his coffee. 

"Speaking of rescuing Bucky," Sam interrupted what would have probably been a long lecture from Natasha, "Stark, I need you to call in a favour for something." He passed the folder to Tony. 

The brunet's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "EXO-7 Falcon?" Tony asked, looking over the contents of the file. "That was real? Huh, I asked Rhodey about it once, he said it was rumour. I bet I could make this better." 

"No time for better, Tony," Steve interjected. "We need Sam up and running sooner rather than later. Maybe after we save Bucky you can fight him for the right to make improvements." 

"Sure thing. I'll call Rhodey, get it sent over ASAP," Tony said, stepping away from the table to speak with the colonel. 

Bruce shifted a bit, looking torn. "What do you have planned for the rest of us, Captain?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not sure I can keep the big guy away for too long…" 

"Would the big guy hurt Bucky?" Steve asked, already appraising the situation. "Because if you think he would, we'll bench you. If he wouldn't, we could use that." 

"I don't think he would," Bruce admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "He tends to feel the same way I do about people, and I like Dr. Barnes. But are you sure you don't want to bench me, anyway? That's… a lot of destruction." 

Steve nodded, standing up even straighter. He had to portray a composed image for the team. They had to believe Steve wasn't falling apart at the seams. "Whoever has my soulmate, well, they should have seen this coming," Steve said, feeling a flare of viciousness for whoever had Bucky. 

"Whoever has your soulmate is probably expecting it," Natasha said, taking a seat at the table. "Think about it. There are really very few reasons to kidnap Barnes." 

"Yeah man, you and his nerd brain," Sam agreed, sitting next to Natasha. "Uh, no offence, Dr. Banner, I mean, nerd brains are cool. Bucky's nerd brain just doesn't have a superhero identity of its own, and this guy here won't quit until he's back." 

Steve frowned but gave a little nod. He sure as hell wasn't going to rest until Bucky was back in his arms, safe and sound. "So someone either wants Bucky's intelligence," he began, pursing his lips in concentration, "or they want to use Bucky to get to me. Either way, not the greatest, but the second option would hopefully mean they'll either just tell me where he is, or contact me for a sort of ransom." 

"The second option does make it easier to locate Barnes," Natasha agreed. "But the first might give Barnes time to tell us where he is himself." 

Tony came back then, a triumphant grin on his face. "Rhodey says he'll ship your wings right over, Icarus," he said, sitting back on the table. "Also says he'll be on standby if we need more air support." 

Steve sighed, rubbing his face. "Okay, so we just, wait?" he asked, feeling a lot like a caged animal at the zoo. "We wait to find out where exactly Bucky is in Washington D.C., and there's nothing else we can do? I'm just supposed to  _ sit  _ here while Bucky is God knows where having God knows what done to him?" 

"You're not sitting," Clint pointed out, filling up his mug again. "Besides, whoever's got Barnes is going to underestimate him. I did once, and well, you saw where that got me." 

Everyone looked at Clint curiously, except Steve. Steve couldn't help the snort of laughter as he remembered when Bucky had played back the footage of the incident for him before having Jarvis delete it. The archer had been approaching carelessly, and Bucky had zip-tied him to the table before Clint had had the chance to register that Bucky wasn't as docile as he seemed. 

Well, Bucky  _ was  _ docile. But he had moments when he was a spitfire. Steve loved him all the more for it. 

"This sounds like a story I've got to hear," Tony said, first to break silence. "What did Buck-o do?" 

Clint shook his head, drinking from his mug. "Nope, can't say, and don't ask Cap, he's sworn to secrecy," he said, taking his seat at the table again. "All you gotta know is, he's Cap's soulmate for a reason. They get the same damn expression…" 

No one had the chance to respond, because Steve's phone rang. The name on the caller ID was Bucky's. Steve answered it quicker than he'd ever answered a call before. "Bucky, are you–" 

"Captain Rogers," a deep voice that decidedly did not belong to his soulmate interrupted. "Nice of you to pick up. As you know, we have your soulmate. If you would like to see him alive again, you'll follow our instructions to the letter. And don't bother trying to trace this call. We have our methods." 

"Is Bucky okay?" Steve asked, hitting Sam's arm. He mouthed the word 'speaker'. He couldn't remember how Bucky had done it before. Sam, bless him, took the phone and put it on speaker for him. 

"That is why we are calling," the voice echoed around the briefing room. "For now, Dr. Barnes is alive. But he might not be if you don't comply. You will come alone, in two hours, to the shadow of the Washington Monument. You will be taken to Dr. Barnes from there. If you do not come alone, he will be dead before you can get to him." 

"I want proof that he's alive now," Steve demanded. He needed to hear Bucky's voice. "I want to talk to him." 

There was shuffling on the other line. Steve felt his heart clench. What if they hung up? What if they hurt Bucky because of Steve's request? 

"Stevie?" Bucky's voice was on the other line. Steve felt his knees buckle with relief. That was Bucky. Bucky was still alive. Thank fucking God. 

"Bucky, it's me, I'm here," Steve replied urgently. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" 

"Yeah," Bucky assured him, and Steve could almost feel the ghosting touch of Bucky's fingers in his hair. Bucky knew how that helped Steve relax, and that was the tone Bucky always used when he was trying to help Steve unwind after a mission. "Stevie, I need you to promise that if something happens to me–" 

"Nothing’s going to happen, I'm going to save you, I swear it," Steve interrupted. He refused to let Bucky think that way. 

"Promise me you'll keep the music box I made for your birthday, okay?" Bucky continued, as though Steve hadn't interrupted. Steve's brow crumpled in confusion. Bucky hadn't made him a music box, ever. What had they done to him? "And when you need to think of me, take it to the table we had our date nights at, put it in the middle and remember, okay? I know the song is your favourite, and just let the little light show remind you that I love you. Promise me, Stevie." 

"Bucky, I don't–" 

"Promise." 

"I promise, baby," Steve assured him. Whatever they'd done to jumble Bucky's beautiful mind, Steve didn't want to distress him. "I promise I'll keep it close and I'll never forget. But I also promise that I won't have to worry, because I'm going to save you, baby. I love you too, and I'll save you." 

"Time is up, Captain Rogers," the voice of Bucky's captor interrupted. "Two hours, Washington Monument." 

The line clicked, and silence filled the room. 

"What did they do to him?" Sam asked, first to break the silence. "Bucky's never made a music box in his entire damn life." 

Steve's mind was racing. Bucky wouldn't have gotten that wrong without severe trauma. Unless he was trying to tell him something without saying it. "Stark, the table that Bucky and I use for dates, is it one of the special Jarvis tables?" 

"Hmm, yeah," Tony said, looking at Steve curiously. "You think he was trying to tell you something?" 

"I do," Steve said, turning to jog for the elevator. He heard everyone moving behind him. "Bucky is adamant about the details. But like Sam said, he's never made a music box before, let alone one that played my favourite song with a light show." 

The elevator was not moving fast enough for Steve. He bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to sprint as soon as the door slid open. 

Steve did just that, breaking into an all-out run. He slid to a stop by the table. "Jarvis, show me Bucky's music box, play 'It's Been a Long, Long Time'," Steve told the AI, holding his breath as the table light up. A small box appeared on the table, playing the requested song as the lights lit the ceiling in a star pattern. The pattern was like Steve's shield, but its inverse, with the rings in the star’s interior. Streams of letters and numbers danced between the design until a sequence lit up. 

"Well, I'll be damned," Tony said, coming up behind him. "I know exactly what that is." 

"It's a fail-safe," Bruce continued, glasses perched on his nose. "For Cap's tracking system, you think?" 

"It's the only thing Buckaroo has access to that no one else does," Tony said, jotting down the sequence. "Damn, that kid is too smart for his own good." 

"What does it mean?" Steve asked, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Bucky had given them something, but Steve just didn't understand enough about technology to know what Bucky had done. 

"Dr. Barnes essentially left a backdoor into his system," Bruce explained, indicating the star on Steve's chest. "A backdoor out of the way and impossible to find unless you know where to find it, but a backdoor all the same. It's a code that will bypass the encryption on your tracker." 

"And it'll allow us to track you after you go with the kidnappers," Tony said, picking up the explanation. "Your tracker will work through any kind of signal jamming, and with this sequence, we can get into it without Barnes being here." 

"So, let's get suited up," Steve said, nodding. "I've got someplace to be, and you all have to be ready to follow and get Bucky and me out." 

Tony nodded, working on his StarkPhone. "Sit tight just a bit, Capsicle," he said. "I'll have a chopper here in twenty to take you. Maybe try to sleep a bit. You look exhausted." 

Steve just snorted, going to sit near the helicopter pad. He wanted to be on the helicopter as soon as he could. He wanted Bucky home.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky knew it was a waiting game. He just had to stay focused until Steve came for him. Steve, for all that he didn't think he was intelligent, was tactical, and knew Bucky better than anyone, maybe even better than Sam did. He'd figure out his message, and he'd figure out how to save them both.

Bucky had been left alone for the most part since he'd gotten here. He wasn't even sure exactly _who_ had him. He'd been able to discern their plans for him though, between logical conclusions and eavesdropping on nearby conversations. They were planning to use Bucky as a sort of pet scientist, inventing things for nefarious purposes. They also planned on keeping Steve as the Fist of whatever they were called. Bucky missed it on account of background noise. He didn't have Steve's super-hearing to catch it. 

"Well, well," a voice said, entering the room that they'd been keeping Bucky in. He knew that voice and that face. Bucky squinted a moment. He wasn't the best with people, that's what he usually had Sam and Steve for. "How smart are you, really, don't you recognise me?" 

"Rumlow," Bucky managed, finally placing the face. "Aren't you SHIELD? Like, I thought they were the good guys… oh." Bucky felt sick. If SHIELD wasn't the good guys, that meant that if Steve asked for help from them, he'd get nothing. 

Rumlow snorted, the expression on his face ugly. "Your stupid soulmate's great rescue will only get so far," he said, walking towards Bucky. His gait was predatory, and Bucky didn't like it. "In the meantime, I get to be in charge of your _conditioning,_ Doctor." 

Bucky was hauled to his feet roughly. "Ow, hey, watch it," he muttered, wincing as Rumlow's grip wrenched his shoulder. "I ain't gonna be helpful if you wrench the thing out of its socket. Not gonna be helpful to you anyway. Don't even know who the fuck you are. I'm just going to wait here for Steve." 

Rumlow laughed, just dragging Bucky along with him. "Of course, Doctor," he said, shoving Bucky into a room where there were other scientist-like people in lab coats and a strange chair-like contraption. "But let's just say, the doctors here can be very persuasive." 

Bucky felt cold fear tingle down his skin. He didn't know what they'd planned for him, but he could tell by Rumlow's expression that he would not like it. Time to talk his way out of this situation. "What's the plan then, hmm? Drugs? Hypnosis? Generalised torture?" he asked, feeling sick to his stomach. "Because if you want me intact to do whatever you've got planned, you might want to think about what you do. I mean, if you want me to invent things, well, fucking too much with my head is bad news. And if I'm just the bait for Steve, I'd advise keeping me in one piece. He'll go ballistic if I'm not, you know?" 

"Why don't you let us worry about what we're going to do?" Rumlow replied, shoving Bucky roughly into the chair. There were cuffs on the chair that Bucky's wrists were clasped into. "Just a little something to make you compliant, Barnes. Something to make your soulmate more sympathetic to the cause." 

"Compliant how? Because let's talk about this," Bucky said, trying to think fast. "How are you making me compliant?" 

Rumlow shoved Bucky back into the chair, securing another strap over his chest. "Just a little _shock_ to the system," he said with a smirk. He grabbed Bucky's chin, tilting his head from side to side briefly. "Can't say I blame Rogers for being taken with you, though. It's those blue eyes, isn't it?" 

Bucky growled out his protest, trying to yank his head free of Rumlow's grip. The man just grinned at Bucky's inability to escape. "So I take it you don't want me to make things for you, then," Bucky snarked, wishing he could get a good enough angle to bite Rumlow. At least he'd be _doing_ something. 

"What?" Rumlow asked, as one of the scientists began to fix electrodes to Bucky's face. He steeled his expression, trying not to let them see his fear, but he was terrified. Absolutely fucking terrified. "Why do you say that? What's he on about?" 

The scientist just looked as terrified as Bucky. "I, I'm not sure," he admitted, placing a pulse reader on Bucky's finger. “I’m not that kind of doctor.”

"Just saying, electricity does a number on the brain, especially if you’re just messing around," Bucky said, struggling to keep his voice even. "Sure, small shocks can boost brain function, but unless you know what you're doing, you could cause permanent brain damage. Hell. If you're really uncareful, you could kill me." 

"What?" Rumlow looked furious, but also maybe a little defeated. Bucky wanted to cheer. He seemed to be onto something here. 

"It only takes a tenth of an amp of electricity to kill a human," Bucky continued, hoping they actually wanted to use him as more than just bait for Steve. "A hundredth of an amp can cause respiratory difficulties, and lack of oxygen can affect brain cells. I just mean, electricity is dangerous to play with. I'm not a superhero or anything, just a human. Playing around with untested or even just under-tested tech is playing with my life." 

Bucky tried so hard to seem casual. He tried to channel Steve's old mentality from the war. It brought tears to Bucky's eyes every time Steve talked about it. He loved Steve so much, and his cavalier consideration of his own well-being was hard for him to hear. But now, Bucky could see the advantages of it. If he didn't seem to care, maybe they'd think twice about it, and miss the fact that Bucky was absolutely petrified. 

"And if I know anything, I know Steve," Bucky said, pursing his lips as though he was thinking. "I know he'll want proof of life when he meets your agent or whatever. He won't go with them unless he knows I'm still alive. So, not trying to assume anything here, but if you were planning on making me, I dunno, a pet scientist, beyond just bait for Steve, you might want to avoid damaging my brain cells." 

Rumlow looked pissed now. "Get him back to his cell," he snarled, back of his hand colliding with Bucky's cheek. The pain blossomed across his face, and Bucky whimpered. "I'll check with the boss and see what he wants to do." With those words, Rumlow stalked away, and a pair of scientists began to unstrap Bucky from the chair. 

"Say, who are you guys anyway?" Bucky asked, trying to seem like he was making casual conversation as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his cheek. He was probably going to bruise. Steve was going to be pissed. "I'd like to know what to tell Steve after he burns the facility down around you to get me back. And what do you even have planned for Steve and me?" 

"Your soulmate will be the Fist of Hydra," one of the scientists said, as the pair hauled Bucky to his feet. "And you shall be the next head of research." 

"Hydra? You mean the Nazi thing that Steve already died for once?" Bucky was definitely going to be sick. "There are Nazis in SHIELD. Of course, there are…" 

Bucky was tossed rather unceremoniously into the room he'd been held in, knees scraping the floor as he tried to catch himself. He couldn't complain about the place, though, other than the obvious of being held against his will with a bruise forming beneath his eye. It had a decent enough bed and a bathroom in a curtained-off corner. One wall was made of glass, so that was awkward, but it wasn't the first time someone had made Bucky into an attraction. 

Why else did he block interns from accessing his lab? All they did was stare at him like he was a carnival sideshow. 

But they hadn't taken anything off him except his phone, which Bucky figured was completely amateur hour really. He had an Iron Man gauntlet on his wrist, and not a single person thought to take it from him. 

He just had to figure out how to use it. He had at least two hours before Steve met with the Hydra agent. Hopefully, they left Bucky alone until then. 

He wasn't sure he could play it the same way again. He was fucking terrified, and soon there'd be no way he could hide it. He wasn’t even sure he was hiding it now. By being casual about his potential demise and being factual about the likely outcome Bucky had delayed torture, beyond the slap he'd already received, that would probably kill him before whatever mind control they thought they were achieving could take hold.. What if next time, they decided they really _didn't_ care whether Bucky lived or died? 

"Jarvis? Can you hear me?" Bucky asked, keeping his voice as low as possible. "I hope you can because I want you to save a message to play for Steve, just in case." 

"Of course, Dr. Barnes," the watch replied, volume level near enough to Bucky's own. "I can store a message for Captain Rogers. I am unable to access my server banks to transfer the message now." 

"That's okay, they're blocking signal somehow," Bucky said, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "Noticed it when they actually took my phone away. No signal. I'm just scared, Jarvis… I've never been this scared before… What if... what if they get Steve too, and we're stuck here forever?" 

"Dr. Barnes, I have faith that Captain Rogers will have a plan," the watch told him, and Bucky just nodded. He traced his fingers against the watch gently, feeling the give and smoothness of the metal. 

He just sighed, feeling lightheaded and a bit woozy. God, he was probably going to die here. "Okay, Jarvis, please tell Steve that I don't blame him for anything," Bucky said, feeling a bit like he was sending Steve his last words. Which, yeah, he was. He just… wanted to be prepared. "I just, I want him to know I love him so much. And I've loved every minute I had with him. He was a soulmate worth waiting for. Please don't let him blame himself. It's not his fault. I wouldn't have changed a damn thing." 

"Of course, Dr. Barnes," Jarvis replied, storing Bucky's message. "Anything else that you'd wish me to relay?" 

"No, not that I can think of," Bucky said with a shrug. "Only give him this message if the worst happens though, okay? I don't want Steve hearing that if he doesn't have to." 

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. He was too keyed up to sleep, not that he often did. But he was still running on six days with very little sleep. Being unconscious did not count. He was exhausted and frankly didn't have the willpower to stay strong much longer. 

Why couldn't two hours go by faster? 

He just wanted Steve. There was nothing he wanted more than Steve's powerful everything holding him, keeping him safe. Bucky was never going to leave Steve's embrace again. 

"Barnes," Rumlow's voice interrupted Bucky's thoughts. "Phone. And we'll know if you say anything we don't like." Rumlow handed Bucky a phone, likely specially formatted to work down here and the same phone he got to speak to Steve with earlier. 

"Heya Stevie," Bucky said, trying to sound braver than he was feeling. 

"Bucky," Steve breathed out, Bucky's name sounding like a prayer. "Baby, are you still okay? I'm coming for you right now, okay?" 

Bucky tried not to show his relief. He had faith in Steve. Steve Rogers never quit, especially not when it came to the things and the people he loved. "Yeah, I'm still alright, Stevie," he assured him. "Sweetheart, I love you, alright? Don't forget that. You still have the music box, right?" 

God, he really fucking hoped Steve had understood that message. Any tracking Steve had on him coming into wherever here was would be blocked; but Bucky's own system would bypass that. He just needed to give Steve access to that system. Thank god he'd had the foresight to build in a fail-safe. 

"Yeah baby, I still have it," Steve promised, filling Bucky with more relief than anything else could have. "I listened to it while I waited for the helicopter to pick me up. Thank you, I love that song." 

Bucky wanted to stand up and dance. Steve got his message. Steve would have at least passed the info on to Tony. Tony would know precisely what it was and that meant that the rest of the team could find Steve and give him the back-up he'd need. 

"I know you do," Bucky said with a soft smile. "And whatever happens, Stevie, I love you more than the hero loves the damsel in every Greek play ever." Another subtle clue. Bucky hoped Steve would put the pieces together. He could at least have the heads up that he was dealing with Hydra. 

"Time’s up," Rumlow growled, snatching the phone away. "See you soon, Captain." And with those words, the call was disconnected. "And we'll see if we can't get the chair to work on the Captain. Until then, Barnes." 

Rumlow left his room again, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. He had blind faith in Steve, even if it was only partially blind. Bucky had seen Steve in action on a few occasions. He knew how strong and capable his soulmate was. He just had to wait. 

"Jarvis," Bucky asked softly, feeling his thoughts race again. "How far did Stark develop this gauntlet? Is it weaponised yet?" 

"Mr. Stark has not yet weaponised the Iron Man Gauntlet Mark I," Jarvis replied, and Bucky sighed. He wanted to be able to help Steve somehow. 

Actually, he could. Bucky sat up, disappearing into the bathroom. He winced at the bruise, lamenting about how he actually had a black eye. Bastard Rumlow… 

Bucky took stock of what was in the bathroom, which was not much. "Jarvis, open the access panel," Bucky instructed, waiting only a moment as the panel opened. "Okay, it would be easier with a full display, but it looks like the repulsor tech is here, just not active. Wish I had some tools, but let's just… see what I can do." 

He extracted the spring from the toilet paper roll, using it as a small tool as he fiddled with the parts, hoping he could get the repulsors turned on. "Jarvis, are repulsors online?" 

"Not yet, Dr. Barnes," Jarvis said, sounding clinical as always. 

"Right, really wish I had the display, but let's try connecting this wire to the miniaturised arc reactor battery pack – you're welcome, Stark – and I wish I had a soldering iron, but hooking it here should hold for a bit, at least… How about now?" 

"Repulsors are online, sir." 

"Ha!" Bucky cheered, louder than he intended. But Bucky Barnes was now armed, and damn right, he was going to help Steve get them out of here. It was like when he'd zip-tied Clint to a table. People underestimated him. Their fucking mistake.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve was keyed up. The meeting with the enemy agent went as well as could be expected. He'd gotten to talk to Bucky, however briefly. It was a relief to be able to hear his soulmate's voice. God, what Steve wouldn't _give_ to have Bucky back home, safe in Steve's arms where he belonged.

There was, of course, the clue Bucky had given him, about the Greek heroes and damsels. It had to be a clue. It didn't make much sense otherwise. Bucky didn't talk that way under normal circumstances. Steve just had to decipher it.

Steve had plenty of time, he supposed. He was currently bundled in the backseat of a blacked-out SUV with the agent watching him intently. Perhaps watching for an indicator that Steve has attempted to bring some kind of tracker or even back-up with him.

Of course, he had. The star emblazoned on his chest was broadcasting his location to the rest of the Avengers and, according to Tony, it was completely undetectable. Bucky was a genius, and Steve had to make sure he knew how much Bucky meant to him.

It dawned on him, then. Fuck. _Hydra._ Hadn't Steve already dealt with those Nazi fuckers? Then again, they were Steve's favourite people to punch. Next chance he had, he'd get a message to the rest of his team. At least they'd have the heads up that he had.

"You know," Steve began, trying to act like he was having a casual conversation, "taking Bucky was a mistake. See, any _other_ act would have resulted in prison, probably. But you took something of _mine._ I'm going to burn your base down around you."

He thought about Bucky and the way he so casually remarked on things he considered to be fact. He channelled that now, stating the facts like he couldn't possibly be wrong. Of course, the plan wasn't to burn the base down. No. Bruce was on standby to – as Tony put it – _smash._

Until then, Steve had to trust his team. He just had to get to Bucky, that was his job. Get to and secure Bucky, while the rest of the Avengers did their part.

If everything went to plan, Natasha and Clint were to cover the entrance, making sure no Hydra foot soldiers escaped, nor formed a barricade to keep Steve and Bucky in. Tony was running to clear any potential civilians, since they didn't know what terrain Steve was being driven to. Sam was running air support and extraction. His job was to get ahold of Bucky and get him clear. Then Steve was going to make sure that this time, Hydra stayed dead.

Bucky was, and always would be, his first priority. But once his soulmate would be with Sam, Steve knew that Sam would do whatever it took to keep Bucky safe. Waiting for the helicopter had given Steve the perspective that he'd needed. Out of the whole team, Steve and Sam would be the most willing to risk their lives for Bucky. Natasha had been right, yet again.

"So, how's this thing gonna work?" Steve asked, keeping the conversational tone to his words. "I suggest we skip the part where I have to punch through your goons to get to Bucky, and we just let me get what I came for."

The agent was still silent, staring at Steve with a gun at the ready. As if Steve couldn't disarm the man before he even aimed. "That's a no, then? Well, before you start on your evil schemes, can I at least see him?" Steve continued, holding an entirely one-sided conversation at this point. "Look, I get you're gonna kill me, but would it ruin the plans entirely to deny me a last request?"

Still nothing. Damn.

"I'll just ask whoever's in charge then," Steve dismissed, leaning back to run through the plan a few more times.

He'd never been this anxious during a mission. Usually, he had a level head and steady hands, but Steve was barely keeping himself together. Then again, Bucky had never been in danger during one of Steve's missions before. Sometimes he helped run support, but only ever while he was safe in the Tower. Steve was never leaving Bucky's side again.

He'd retire, yeah. Retire and take a job as part of Tony's building security. Yeah. He'd station himself in Bucky's lab every day. Bucky would be sick of him after a week…

Okay, maybe that wasn’t a great plan. Didn't mean he had to dislike the idea. He could quietly entertain it in his own mind. Steve had earned that much, he was sure. What he was actually going to do, though, was get Bucky out of the Tower for a few days. They'd definitely earned a vacation. He'd ask Pepper for recommendations.

The blacked-out SUV pulled to a stop, and Steve felt his heart rate speed up. Showtime. "So, take me to your leader, I suppose," Steve said before the door was opened from the outside. Two more agents were standing there, these ones seemingly familiar in a way. Recognition tingled at the back of Steve's mind. He couldn't place them, though. It was going to drive him crazy.

The agents said nothing, forming up in a loose circle around him. Steve just needed to bide his time. He needed to find out where Bucky was before he started throwing punches. "You could just take me to Bucky instead," he suggested as the agents led him to a large room.

There were several medical-looking machines around the room as well as a somewhat terrifying set-up around an uncomfortable-looking chair. Steve knew nothing good would come from this. He planted his feet and refused to move even one step further. The agent behind him crashed into him. Steve barely moved an inch.

"Keep walking," one of the agents demanded, another attempting to shove Steve forward. He was a super-soldier. He'd like to see them _really_ try to move him. They'd need construction equipment.

"I'll move when you tell me where Bucky is," Steve stated, feet planted stubbornly. He folded his arms over his chest, subtly turning on the voice transmission. The rest of the Avengers could hear him now. "So. Is he here? Or do I have to start tearing down walls to find him?"

"Captain Rogers," a familiar voice said from behind him. From the shadows, Brock Rumlow emerged, Bucky held in a too-tight grip. A darkening bruise was painted across his soulmate’s cheek. Steve nearly rushed Rumlow right then. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"Rumlow?" Steve asked, feeling a little lightheaded. "Fuck. Hydra's in SHIELD." He hoped Natasha heard that. She'd know what to do. That woman had her ways.

"Have a seat, _Captain,"_ Rumlow demanded again, refusing to acknowledge Steve's statement. Probably wise, but it wouldn't matter. Steve was already sure he was Hydra, thanks to Bucky.

"And if I don't want to?" Steve questioned, straightening up. He stood stubbornly, just needed to wait for his moment to cue the team.

Rumlow's response was to pull a handgun and press it to Bucky's jaw. Wide, blue eyes stared at Steve, a silent question of whether to disarm the man or not. Steve shook his head slightly, pride warming him all the same. Getting out of that hold was part of what Steve had trained Bucky to do, and the lazy way Rumlow held him showed how much the man underestimated Steve's soulmate.

"If you don't, Captain," Rumlow began, cocking the gun in his hand. "Then your pretty little soulmate's brain decorates this wall. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Steve agreed, tilting his head slightly. "But see, you took my soulmate. Did you really think I'd come alone?" 

Steve gave Bucky a nod. Immediately, his soulmate efficiently disarmed Rumlow and ran towards Steve. At the same moment, Steve drew his shield, taking out the agents surrounding him with ruthless precision. Once the agents were down, Steve threw his shield at Rumlow, watching the man crumple to the floor. A quick tap to his gauntlet sent the shield flying back to him.

He ran towards Bucky then, wrapping his soulmate in his arms. "You brought the team?" Bucky asked, clinging to Steve, nose against Steve's neck for a brief moment. "You got all my messages?"

Steve nodded, dropping to a crouch and covering Bucky with the shield as bullets rang against it. "I did," Steve assured him, kissing Bucky's temple briefly. "I also brought a Hulk."

Steve was mentally timing it, and he wasn't that far off when the Hulk came crashing through the roof with a roar. "And that's our cue," Steve whispered, standing and dragging Bucky behind him. "We have a rough plan, and now I'm getting you out of here."

Bucky stumbled a bit, trying to keep up, but running all the same. Steve remembered the winding trail it took to get here. Hopefully they'd be unaccosted along the way. 

Hope, it seemed, did not favour them today. Just as he and Bucky were about to turn out of the hall, a shot rang out, and pain rocketed up Steve's leg and along his spine. He staggered, nearly taking Bucky down as he did.

_Fuck._ Of all the people to be behind them, smirking with his gun still trained on Steve, Rumlow was the last person he wanted to see.

"Bucky, baby, go," Steve said, body swaying slightly as he stayed on his feet. "Get out of here, find the exit, Natasha and Clint will be there."

"No, no, I'm not leaving," Bucky insisted as Steve shifted to block the next few shots with his shield. "I'm not leaving without you."

Steve groaned. He wasn't sure he could get Bucky out and finish the mission. "Baby, please," he pleaded, a trembling hand cupping Bucky's cheek, smearing a little blood on the brunet's smooth skin. "It's _Hydra."_

Bucky shook his head, tapping the watch on his wrist and unfolding it into some kind of Iron Man looking thing. "All the more reason not to let you die for this again," his soulmate said, shifting up to fire a blast towards Rumlow. The man grunted, and a thud sounded. Steve looked back to see Rumlow had been launched clear across the hallway, body slumped against the wall, smoke wafting from his clothes. 

"I hope that didn't kill him…" Bucky said.

"I'm sure it didn't," Steve assured him. Bucky wore a brave face, but Steve could see the pallor creeping over his soulmate's golden skin. "Let's go. The team's waiting."

Bucky nodded, draping Steve's arm over his shoulders. "Tell me the way, I'll help you walk," Bucky murmured, his muscles quivering beneath Steve's hand. It was probably fear, adrenaline, and maybe strain. Steve wasn't light, and while Bucky trained with Steve, he still worked in his lab most of the time.

They made it to the entrance, Natasha and Clint holding it, as per the plan. "Widow," Steve greeted with a nod. "What do you suggest to cut them out of SHIELD?"

"Short of tearing SHIELD down with them? Nothing," Natasha said, eyeing Steve's injury with a critical eye. "I'm benching you, Captain. Have the Falcon escort you to safety, too. Iron Man will finish the mission."

For a group of public superheroes, the codenames seemed to stick when they were in the field. "If destroying SHIELD is what it takes–" Steve began, leaning more heavily on Bucky than he would have liked. The brunet staggered a bit, hand flashing out to grab Clint's shoulder for balance "–then do it. Hydra needs to be gone this time, Widow. I can't fail again."

"You didn't fail the first time," Bucky argued. "Steve, you _died_ the first time. You got _shot_ this time. Don't blame yourself."

Steve just grit his teeth, wincing at the pain. "Where's our extraction?"

"Inbound, Cap," Sam's voice came out of Bucky's sound system. Bucky's face twisted in confusion.

"Sam? That you?" Bucky asked, looking as angry as he was confused. "Why are you here? It's dangerous."

"It's the Falcon," Sam replied, landing in front of them, wings fully extended. "And I'm here to rescue my brother. So let's get going, Barnes."

"Take Steve first," Bucky said, trying to pass Steve to Sam. "He's been shot. He needs a doctor, well, a medical one."

"I'm not leaving until you're clear," Steve argued, forcing himself upright. The pain was excruciating, but he knew it would heal. He just had to endure until Bucky was safe. "Let the Falcon get you to safety, Buck. Please."

Bucky looked primed to argue, but he must have seen something in Steve's face, because eventually he nodded. Bucky leaned in to press a quick kiss to Steve's lips before moving towards Sam.

"So you have a winged jet pack," Bucky said, appraising the EXO-7 Falcon with the interest of a man already planning something. "How long?"

"Air Force," Sam replied, picking Bucky up and flying off. Steve couldn't hear Bucky's response, but he knew Sam would undoubtedly be getting an earful.

"Cap, you look terrible," Clint said, letting Steve lean against him. "You'd think it was your first time getting shot."

"It's just been a while," Steve confessed. He didn't bother mentioning that if anyone else had been shot like he had been, they would probably have been dead already. "I'm usually more… aware."

"Love does funny things," Clint agreed with a small nod. "Different priorities and all that." 

Steve nodded, swaying a bit from where he'd leaned against Clint. He was sort of grateful Natasha had benched him. Steve would have tried to keep fighting, but the shot had fractured his femur, and probably nicked his artery. Even with his advanced healing, a shot like this could possibly kill him.

It wasn't too long before Sam was back, ready to collect Steve and take him to the extraction point. 

"How is he?" Steve asked, needing to know how his soulmate was faring.

Sam moved in to get a grip on Steve. "He's pissed that I didn't tell him about the wings, and he's pissed that you made him go first," he replied, taking flight while gripping Steve's arms. "Shit, has anyone ever told you that you're heavy?"

Steve laughed dryly. "I'd say I had a big breakfast, but I think you know I haven't eaten since Bucky went missing," he retorted. "I'm pretty sure it's a serum thing, though."

Sam just grunted, flying Steve to Bucky. When they landed, Steve's arms were immediately full of Bucky as his soulmate launched himself at Steve. His leg gave out, buckling under the force of Bucky's embrace. Steve hit the ground with a sharp inhale of pain.

Bucky didn't seem to register it, though, just nuzzled closer against Steve's chest. He was still shaking, terror wracking his lean frame. "Stevie, Stevie," Bucky babbled, nose pressing into Steve's neck.

Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's hair gently, propping himself up as best he could with Bucky laying against his chest. "Hey, baby," he whispered, tugging Bucky's hair gently so the other man would look at him. "You're alright. We're both safe. But I need someone to check out my leg. Can you let me get up? You can hold my hand the whole time."

Bucky nodded and he and Sam helped Steve to his feet. They each slung one of Steve's arms over their shoulders, and together they staggered towards the helicopter. "Just need a few stitches probably," Steve said, voice slurring slightly. Okay, so blood loss was still a bit of a problem. He'd be fine once he wasn't bleeding so profusely anymore.

Dropping into the seat in the helicopter Steve reached out for Bucky, pulling the brunet into his side. Bucky's clothes would be stained with Steve's blood, but honestly, Steve didn't care. Bucky was safe, albeit still obviously scared. "I've got you," Steve murmured, tucking his nose into Bucky's neck. "You're safe, baby."

Bucky's familiar fingers curled into Steve's hair, scratching softly at Steve's scalp. "You too, Stevie," Bucky said softly. Steve hummed softly in agreement before drifting into a semi-unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the end. I hope you guess enjoyed this fic. I had a really great time writing it. At this time, I haven't started the next part for this series, but I do have a few ideas for it. But in case nothing comes of those ideas, I hope this has a nice ending for it in the end!

Bucky fussed over his hair for the hundredth time. He needed to get his hair cut, but honestly, he'd been too nervous to leave the Tower. He hadn't said anything to anyone, not even Steve, just busied himself with running a set of upgrades on Sam's wings. Sam seemed determined to continue working with the Avengers, so Bucky wanted him to have the best possible resources.

"Buck," Steve murmured, sliding in behind Bucky with his arm around his waist. "You look beautiful. And we're late for Tony's party." Steve had his blonde hair coiffed differently, like when Sam had done it for him before Bucky and Natasha's birthday party. Bucky liked it a lot, actually. It made Steve look like he belonged in the modern century, and less like he was trying to relive his past.

"Tony's not even throwing this party for any good reason," Bucky complained, tugging lightly at one of the braids he'd attempted. It looked terrible, but when he'd called Sam for help, his friend hadn't answered his phone. "What was it he said? 'To celebrate Romanoff's telling Congress to go fuck themselves'?"

"Yeah, and to officially introduce our newest member to the team," Steve added, lips trailing down Bucky's neck. The blonde slid his arm up Bucky's torso, finding the outline of the dog tags beneath Bucky's shirt. "Sam's going to be upset if we miss his official introduction."

"We have to stop at my lab," Bucky murmured, reclining slightly against Steve's chest. "I finished my prototype of his wings. He'll want to make his entrance in those."

Steve nodded, stepping back and offering Bucky his arm like the gentleman he so often pretended to be. Bucky's seen Steve in bed, though. He's not fooled anymore.

Although, come to think of it… "Steve, aren't you supposed to be in your chair still?" Bucky asked, frowning at Steve's unbalanced stance. It had been a week since the ordeal with Hydra, and Steve had, according to Dr. Cho, nearly died from blood loss. Steve had needed blood, which Bucky had been more than happy to donate. But his stubborn soulmate was supposed to stay in his wheelchair, at least until the stitches came out. After that, he was supposed to walk with a cane until he could walk without any sort of limp. 

"I'm fine, Buck," Steve insisted, taking Bucky's hand and leading him towards the elevator. He was definitely limping. "I'm a super-soldier. I heal quickly."

"Steven Grant Rogers," Bucky chastised as Steve called the elevator. "A femur fracture typically takes three to six months to heal. It's been a week. Not even a super-soldier heals that fast."

"How about, I promise to use the chair all day tomorrow if you let me cheat a little today," Steve bargained, bringing Bucky's hand to his lips. "Let me walk to the party under my own power, baby."

"I should make you get your chair," Bucky said, making a face. "But, if you use the chair all day, and ask for help reaching for things instead of getting them yourself, I won't make you."

Plus, Bucky was pretty sure it wouldn't last long even if he did. Steve would ditch the chair the first time Bucky looked away. Stubborn bastard.

"Such a generous soulmate," Steve murmured, leaning in to kiss Bucky softly. "I'll have to make it up to you later."

Bucky shivered as they got on the elevator. They made a stop at Bucky's lab, and he grabbed the sleek, backpack-style jetpack and the small box of accessories. Steve leaned over Bucky to look at it. "Looks very cool," he observed, sliding his arm around Bucky's waist. "What's this thing?"

Steve's fingers brushed against the triangular segmented section of the jetpack. Bucky couldn't help the proud smile. "I've been calling him Redwing," he said, touching Steve's hand gently. "Technically, it's the Barnes Drone MK82 922 V 80Z V2 Prototype Unit V6. But, Redwing is easier to say."

"What's a Redwing?" Steve asked as they got back on the elevator. "I do like the red. I think Sam will, too."

"Redwing is a drone," Bucky explained, slipping the jetpack into the bag with the rest of Sam's newly built gear. "He's sort of like a mini, robotic Sam. He's a little glider with a camera and some weaponry. Sam gets to control him like a remote-controlled airplane. I thought he might like it."

"He's going to love it," Steve said, kissing Bucky's cheek. "What other gizmos did you bring for him?"

Steve was trying to peer into the box, but Bucky swatted his hands away. "It's a surprise," Bucky said, smiling. "Besides, Sam's gonna want to be the first to know about his 'gizmos'."

Before Steve could begin the expected protest, the doors slid open. Bucky subtly tried to encourage Steve to put some of his weight against Bucky, but the blond was going to stubbornly walk on his own. 

Typical.

"I should go find Sam," Bucky said after peering around for his friend. "He's probably getting ready for his entrance, and he'll need this stuff."

"I'll come along," Steve murmured with a smile. "He might need a pep talk and all that." Bucky shot Steve a look. Sam wouldn't need any kind of pep talk from Captain America. But he might be happy to have the support of his friends. "Okay, okay, I just want to see the new stuff you made. You wouldn't even let me look while you were making them."

Bucky snorted, taking Steve's hand. "That's because they weren't for you," he said, leading Steve in his search of his best friend. "And I thought you'd ask for a Redwing of your own, and I was going to have to tell you no."

"What? Why?" Steve asked, giving Bucky his best pout. God, Bucky was weak. He loved and hated when Steve's blue eyes widened just a bit, face softening into the most irresistible expression. 

Bucky was going to hold his ground here, though. Under no circumstances would he be equipping Steve with a drone. "There's no room for one in your suit," Bucky explained. "And I'm pretty sure you'd just crash it."

"I would not!"

"Cause you have such a great track record _not_ crashing planes?"

"Oh hush," Steve chastised, pulling Bucky in for a soft kiss. "That plane brought me to you. But I suppose I can concede the point. No drone for me. Can I play with Sam's?"

"What? No! You can't _play_ with Sam's," Bucky nearly shouted, covering his mouth quickly. "Sam's drone is meant for missions, not for fun. How about I have Jarvis order a remote control airplane for you to play with?"

Steve seemed to ponder it, full lips pursed slightly. "I suppose that's agreeable," he allowed, grinning like a madman. Bucky already regretted the compromise. "Now, Sam needs his gizmos."

Bucky huffed, but let Steve limp forward and lead the way. "They're not gizmos," he argued, more on the principle of it. "They're practical inventions to keep my best friend alive since your dumb ass decided to rope him into being a superhero."

"Hey," Steve said, giving Bucky an incredulous look over his shoulder, "I actually argued against it. He insisted, and Natasha let him. Don't blame this one me." 

Bucky didn't, not really. He knew full well that when Sam Wilson put his mind to something, he was going to do it.

Steve pulled Bucky into one of the back rooms where Sam was supposed to be getting ready. He immediately froze and Bucky crashed into his back. 

"What?" Bucky asked, peering around Steve's large frame to see Sam, enthusiastically making out with someone on the couch. Someone who had very familiar red hair.

"Sam?" Bucky squeaked, deciding to be embarrassed about the high-pitched noise later. "You… Natasha?" 

Sam and Natasha both snapped their attention to Steve and Bucky. Both of them wide-eyed, and Bucky was pretty sure there was a blossom of pink across Natasha's cheeks. "Your eye. Sam! Why didn’t you tell me?"

Sam blinked matching dark brown eyes for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh, I did try?" he said with a little shrug. "But when I went to your lab, you were on your fourth cup of coffee, and you were babbling about red wings or something. So, I didn't tell you. But I found my soulmate? And she's probably the most incredible woman in the whole world."

God, Sam looked lovestruck. Bucky always figured he'd have that face when he found his soulmate. 

"Anyway, you've got the rest of my gear?" Sam was getting up, smoothing down his new uniform.

Bucky nodded, walking towards his best friend and pulling him into a hug. "I'm happy for you," Bucky said softly, squeezing Sam tightly. "She's a pretty great woman."

"Do I detect a genuine compliment for someone other than Steve, Dr. Barnes?" Natasha asked, coming behind Sam and resting her hand on his shoulder. "Does this mean you're essentially my brother-in-law?"

"Pretty much," Bucky said, pulling Natasha into a hug too. "That means I have to insist that you call me Bucky. Friends and family call me Bucky. And– this conversation sounds familiar…"

"You had it when you were drunk at the last party," Steve replied, limping over to them and shaking Sam's hand. "Normally this is the part, Wilson, where I warn you not to hurt her. But I think she'd do far more damage than I ever could if you did."

"I wouldn't," Sam said easily, no hesitation as he cast a fond look towards Natasha. "Tell me about my gear. Mr. Stark's only gonna wait so long."

"Right," Bucky began, fishing out Sam's new jetpack. "Your new Falcon rig. I made it out of an impact resistant carbon fibre material. With a titanium lining for added durability. I wanted vibranium, but T'Challa said I couldn't have more after my last acquisition. That's fair, I suppose… Anyway," he continued, passing the wings to Sam, "they have a few more capabilities than the wings you're used to. They can form a shield on your back, and the wingtips are sharper. The wings are controlled by this." Bucky paused to pull out the gauntlets. "The weapon systems control is here," he explained, helping Sam strap them to his wrists. "The right gauntlet is a miniaturised rocket launcher, courtesy of Tony. And the left is a miniaturised machine gun, also from Tony. Your wings also have a couple of miniature guided missiles–"

"You gave me guided missiles?" Sam interrupted as Natasha fitted the jetpack around his shoulders. "What about the goggles? Those were actually an issue."

Bucky huffed, pulling out the new goggles he'd made. "I was getting to them," he said with a slight eye roll. "They've got a built-in HUD. They have modes for different spectrums and some pretty amazing zoom capabilities."

Sam put the red-lensed goggles on and grinned. "What's this in the corner?" He asked, lips pulling in concentration. "Redwing?"

"My favourite part," Bucky told him with a proud smile. "On your left gauntlet, hit here to call him. Redwing is a drone. I built him for you. He does a lot. He can give you an eye on something, track enemies, and he's what marks targets for the guided missiles."

Sam whistled, looking at the gauntlet with a grin. 

"You like it?" Bucky asked, feeling a bit more nervous than he thought he would.

"Bucky, brother, you've fucking outdone yourself, again," Sam said, clasping Bucky's shoulder with an affectionate smile. "Now I'll be both more useful, and probably alive after the fight, too. Thanks."

"Of course," Bucky replied, feeling his cheeks heat under Sam's praise. "Go get 'em, Falcon."

Sam grinned again as he and Natasha headed back out for Sam's official introduction.

"So, Sam and Natasha," Steve said, sliding his arm around Bucky's waist. "I think they're well suited to each other. But we should go watch. Moral support and all."

"Yeah, and you're going to sit down," Bucky informed him, leading Steve out to find a seat at the heart of the party. "And you're going to stay there until we head back to the room, or so help me, Steve."

Steve grinned. "So help you, what?" he asked, lips finding Bucky's ear. "Don't give me idle threats, Bucky Barnes."

"Or so help me, Steve Rogers, you will go to sleep without getting any."

"Oh, so cruel, Buck," Steve said, but didn't protest when Bucky pushed him onto one of the couches before settling himself against Steve's good thigh. 

"Hey, you're really okay with all that?" Steve gestured towards Sam, who was shifting a bit nervously.

"Yeah," Bucky said, smiling at his best friend. "Sam's one of the best people I've ever known. If anyone was going to be the newest Avenger, you wouldn't find anyone better. Just, Stevie, don't let him get hurt too badly."

Steve kissed Bucky softly, smiling warmly. "You have my word, baby," Steve promised, kissing Bucky again. "I will do everything in my power to keep him from being too hurt."

Bucky nodded, snuggling against Steve's shoulders. Yes, Sam would make a great addition to the team. And he trusted Sam to have Steve's back just as much as he trusted Steve to have Sam's. "Love you, Stevie," Bucky whispered, taking Steve's hand.

"I love you too," Steve murmured, kissing Bucky slowly. As it so often did, the world around him melted away. It was just him and Steve, together like they were always meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Talk Stucky With Me:** [Discord Server](https://discord.gg/cSthmvB)


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